


Recollect Me

by solarscarlet



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Drunk Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fantasizing, First Love, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Heartache, Heartbreak, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Injury, Injury Recovery, Internal Conflict, Intoxication, Loneliness, Love Confessions, M/M, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, Multi, Post-High School, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Recovery, Returning Home, Reunions, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Slice of Life, Soul-Searching, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Amnesia, Unrequited Love, Veterans, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-04-08 04:12:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14096943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarscarlet/pseuds/solarscarlet
Summary: Returning home from war should have felt easier for Takashi Shirogane, but with the burden of his now robotic arm and the inability to explain why a stranger makes him feel such confliction, it seems maybe the battlefield was a friendlier place. Unaware of the cruel game life if playing on not only him, but someone he once held close, Shiro tries to rebuild with what he has, and in turn, hopes to find what he’s lost.





	1. The Unforeseen

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic in an incredibly long time but I wanted to do something in regards to Shiro and Keith. This story is going to get pretty heavy and dive into some dark spots but in the end, I hope you enjoy it? If that's the right terminology I'm not sure. Feel free to come pester me over on my Tumblr about this fic! You can find me under [solarscarlet](http://solarscarlet.tumblr.com/) just like you can here!

The air was easier to breathe in, uncomfortably so. It compared nothing to the deserts he had been out in a few months before, attempting to intake dry air full of dust particles. It was hard to breathe back then, but now it was so light, too easy, and it was a trigger of its own free will. The soldier remained rooted in his spot on this Earth as he was hit with yet another attack. He felt his heart rate picking up as the bus that brought him here, now drove away in the opposite direction, returning to the city he had been recovering in up until just yesterday morning. Now he was free, or what the doctor claimed was freedom for the now robotic arm clad soldier. 

He had been told he was the lucky one of the bunch that came home from the war missing a limb, he lost it saving fellow men and when he woke up after everything he found his right hand now gone. A team of doctors explained what they were trying to do, advancing the medical technology of the world. They would finish the construction, put him under, cut his arm back open and start connecting the nerves until it was a fully operating arm. 

After that happened it was an onslaught of therapy and tasks, he recalled the first one being to simply hold up and flex his fingers. When he did so for the first time, with this new appendage, it felt alien to him. He recalled the nurse giving a gentle high-five to him but he didn’t physically feel it, this cold metal and hot wires now attached to him, left him with no feeling of anything. He found himself now consciously reminding himself of when he was grasping something in his right hand, because whilst his nerves were attached to this technology, his heart and feelings were not. No blood flow was recognized within it, only the brain triggering the need to move and to grasp and to lift and to wave and to-- 

Breathe. Deep breaths. The air was starting to settle now as he had let his mind wander to other things to calm his traumatic state of mind. He lifted his head and looked forward to the town now laid out before him. This was home, the quiet rural town of Altea and it’s down to Earth people, this was what he had left behind those few years ago to fight and protect those who were here. Now, however, the town felt foreign, the people looked different, and they looked at him with a difference as well. His eyes caught hard onto some, following them as they crossed the street and headed for the town bank, or the pharmacy, or to the park that if he remembered correctly was a swing down left on Juniberry street. This wasn’t what he would have expected to feel when he finally made it back home, then again he wasn’t expecting to be back home like this. 

Takashi Shirogane felt alienated now, he was not the man he was before, shining and outgoing, willing to put himself before others; no, now he was a broken shell of the man he once was, a man covered in scars and getting by with a fake arm, his brain racked with the thoughts of war everytime a bright light flashed-- thinking it was a bomb. He was so incredibly fragile, one move and he could very well break in an instant, and he hated in knowing that this was what had become of himself. 

He remained still for several moments, letting his thundering mind race until it soon enough came to a settlement. He then began to move, his duffle bag over his shoulder as he began to make his way through town. It was moments like these when he could wrangle himself, that he felt almost like his old self. But his reflection in shop windows was a force to reckon with. He once again stopped in his travels to stare at himself in the reflection of the art shop window. 

He was still pale from residing within the hospital walls, the only sunlight he ever received was through the single window in his room during his stay. His once fully black hair now had a victim of stress displayed broadly at the front, a white patch of hair hanging right over the middle of his forehead. Below that was a pink scar that crossed over his nose, a piece of shrapnel had supposedly done it to him when the explosion had happened. He still could only recall bits and pieces of that very moment when the bomb had detonated and he made himself the human shield of his team. His own clothes now acted like a shield for the world, his light grey garrison sweatshirt and black cargo pants hiding the numerous other scars that were a gift from fighting in the war. 

He hated himself, he hated how scary he seemed now, how other’s were most likely afraid and possibly finding him a monster. He never recalled ever being so self-conscious before yet here he was staring into the window of a-- 

There was a movement beyond his reflection, a shot of dark moving beyond the glass. He came to focus on it, well rather, them. A seemingly young man who had his back to the soldier, adjusting a painting on its display easel. His hair was a midnight black color, slightly long but it seemed to fray and curl up at the ends, making it appear a bit shorter. Careful hands moved across the painting to ensure it was secure, the seemingly smaller male, clad in his dark grey shirt and blue jeans, a pale white apron tied around him, not paying any mind to the now watchful eye of the veteran. 

For Shirogane, this sudden moment felt like a distraction, and somehow, watching how carefully the other handled the artwork was equally calming. He silently wished he could handle himself that way, then maybe his PTSD wouldn’t act up so bad. Maybe it would be something he could work on, his own self-care--- 

His thoughts were interrupted by amethyst eyes suddenly settling on him. The displayer now facing the viewer, the glass being what divided an ex-army man from a mere shopkeep. But he found himself unable to look away from such an intense gaze. They were slightly narrowed, silently posing the question of: ‘What are you looking at?’ Takashi swallowed hard suddenly, throat going dry when he found himself unable to move for the up-teenth time today. 

He could so easily think that the creature before him was beautiful, far more lovely than the painting that they had just been pinning up. But this creature seemed wary of him instead, eyeing him up and down only for there to suddenly be… dare “Shiro” think it-- recognition? 

The man beyond the window now had widened eyes as if seeing a rainbow for the first time after a rain shower. Shiro was bewildered by the stranger’s expression only to be further confused when the employee scrambled to leave the window display area, haphazardly knocking over the painting they seemed to have worked so hard to put up in the first place.

The fleeing of the art store employee left Shiro with not only confusion but now a bit of hurt. While he wasn’t sure if that was the stranger’s intention, he found himself hating his own reflection again, feeling maybe such an abused and fractured appearance was what made the other runoff and away. If it didn’t result in a possible fine in the destruction of property, he probably would have sent his fist flying into the glass to destroy the glareful vision of himself. But he didn’t, instead keeping a fist at his side whilst his other hand only gripped tighter at the strap of his bag. He stiffly turned away from the shop window and marched off further into town. 

He heard them, the women with their innocent children, softly quieting them as he passed by. The parade of whispers, “Don’t stare.”, “Don’t say anything.”, “Don’t”-- He found his lips once more turning downwards as he continued his trudging through this old place, passing the town center where the fountain was, the beautiful relic having once been the color of copper, but now worn by the elements it was a pale green, looking almost damaged as some copper still tried to show through. Ironically it was this piece that perhaps Shiro was most able to connect himself within this whole place, the idea of being within a place only for it to bare it’s burdens on to you until you’ve finally given in to change, forced to look unlike you ever have. He found himself lingering there, gazing at the water that fell into the bottom pool, suddenly unaware of the world around him. It was that comfort again, that mind-numbing feeling when he found something to sedate his unruly mind of crashing waves and muddled shores. 

“--Iro?” A voice dove into the tranquility and suddenly the ex-soldier was snapping his head in the direction of such distraction as if it were the enemy. 

However, such an enemy came with the face of friendliness. A young man of tan skin and dark blue eyes, his dark brown hair seeming to be neatly in place to go along with his navy suit and pink tie, almost business-like but still the air of familiarity calmed Shiro when he came to recognize this face. 

“Shiro! It is you, man it’s great to see your face around here again!” He greeted, hands sliding into his pocket and becoming rather casual as he grinned. 

“Hey, Lance…” Shiro turned to better face him, confirming a small smile of appreciation in his own to the other. “It’s… really great to be back here.” He tilted his head ever so slightly.

“You’re looking good,” Lance replied, looking the other over but catching notice to how Shiro’s smile seemed to drop. His own grin faded at that. “I heard what happened, man… I know it’s been a rough few months for you but…” He extended his hand. “I want to at least thank you. For ya know… your service and all that jazz.” 

The veteran eyed the extended hand wearily, knowing to shake it would mean using his right hand. His brain started steamrolling again, debating what to do, shake or not to shake. He caved and lifted the prosthetic to meet the other but his brain kept on rolling. Not to tight, not too tight! The grip was light when he grasped Lance’s hand. And as soon as he did the other was smiling again, looking at the hand.

“That’s freakin’ amazing.” Lance breathed out as he pulled his hand back, retreating it back to the pocket of his suit pants. “I’m sure it’s got to take some getting used to though.” 

“Yeah but… I’m getting there.” Shiro felt encouraged to offer a smile again to the other, his gaze still gentle despite all the carnage he had witnessed. It was always good to see an old friend who didn’t seem to harbor any ill-intent against him. Then again, this was the first familiar face he had witnessed since he stepped foot off the bus over an hour ago. 

The bell tolled not far from a nearby church, and Lance went rigid for a moment, slowly looking to the courthouse building that loomed only a few yards away from the fountain. 

“Shit guess it’s time for me to get back in there.” He rubbed the back of his neck and groaned in irritation before giving Shiro an apologetic smile. “Duty calls got to get back to my client. I swear they’re innocent though.” He laughed lightly, smile growing ever wider. 

“You’re a lawyer now?” Shiro questioned, a bit surprised to make the discovery. If he recalled correctly, back in high school Lance was the notorious goofball of the bunch, and of course the self-designated ladies man. While he kept up decent grades he never seemed the type for such serious work. 

“Ha! Yeah, I know kinda funny right? But it turns out I’m pretty good at it, and people like my charisma.” He grinned again, eyes crinkling shut before he opened them fully once more. “It was great seeing you again Shiro, glad you made it home. I’ll have to let Allura know, maybe we can get together and have dinner, get you caught up on everything that’s happened while you were gone.” He held out his hand again, however this time he extended his left, allowing Shiro the opportunity to meet him with his human side rather than robotic. 

“Uh yeah,” Shiro gave a smile again as he took the other’s hand, giving an actual squeeze this time and momentarily enjoying the returned action. “That’d be nice.” With that said did they release and Lance was dashing off for the front stairs of the courthouse, leaving Shiro alone again with his own worst enemy: his thoughts. 

They came crashing into him again, a harsh wave crashing into the rocks that he tried to keep up for the sake of peace in his own head, but it failed, it had failed over the span of the past eight months since he came to. He pursued the route home again however once he mustered the ability to do so. He tried to just make his way through the sidewalks of people, neighbors, he duly noted as he passed yet another person on their way to possibly a store or to some appointment, or to perhaps flee this place of unsettling serenity. He heard the thought in the back of his head, maybe he should go back to the hospital, maybe his mentality for this really wasn’t set yet. His steps were slowing again, his eyes unfocused and cast downwards to his feet where a pair of worn white sneakers shielded the world from his scars there too. 

It was a flash of dark in this pristine bright world that knocked him back into reality, eyes lifting to catch sight of a familiar face again. But such a familiar face wasn’t exactly looking his way. 

The shopkeep he had been admiring earlier until they fled, was now carrying himself with long strides down an adjacent sidewalk from the veteran, a large rectangular bag hanging off one shoulder and looking as if it could swallow the young man whole with the black fabric it was made of. His face seemed to set into something harsh like he was suddenly hating the world he walked through, those purplish hues almost glaring at everything in front of him, banishing it out of his sight. Shiro witnessed as the world seemed to move and bend with such a stare, how people were quick to shuffle and move out of the man’s pathway as he kept up a steady pace of speed and large ground coverage. Soon enough he was disappearing down a corner and the rotating Earth settled back into its own harmony. 

He lingered yet again in his spot, staring at where the young man had made his turn down the corner, fading from view. It was in that moment did a new voice, one almost feeling faintly familiar, calling to tell him to pursue. His feet turning first at the idea as his grip tightened on his grab, the ache in his shoulder from hauling his luggage suddenly disappearing as he picked up apace. Call it curiosity, curiosity to know why the young man had reacted the way he did, curiosity to know why the other seemed to carry hate in every stride he took, curiosity to know where he was headed with such persistence, Shiro was fueled by the desire to suddenly want to know, and equally fueled by the faint voice calling for pursuit of such a beautiful creature out of sheer desire to simply know his name. 

So, he too, the ex-veteran, now made the sharp turn down the corner, onto a street known as Marmora Avenue. It wasn’t quite the road he was expecting, a large expanse of massive homes all in bright pastel colors with that sort of old fashion look the town was noted for on its south side. But the minuscule surprise didn’t stop him as he caught sight of the large black bag again and the man carrying it, continuing past all the large houses with that dark aura surrounding him, enough to surely bring storm clouds in. Shiro kept up the pursuit. 

The exquisite neighborhood continued for what felt like forever before it then died off, leaving the veteran looking now down a dirt path that appeared just before the last house on the end. That was where his current mission had just turned down, now heading into a hoard of trees and bushes, he eyed the uneven and unmarked trail before treading down it, stirring up a slight bit of dust with each step. He was sure that at the end of this trail was most likely the shopkeep’s home, and with that feeling was he proven right as he came to a small clearing and a broken, worn down white fence. 

Beyond the dilapidated fencing sat what could only be summarized as a shack. It was small, incredibly so, with chipped paint on the wood sidings and the metal chimney at the top looking slightly crooked. The front porch, if it could be called that, was barely big enough for one, let alone two rusty chairs to be placed there and silently awaiting company. The windows of the place seemed to be pane with glass of different colors, adding an odd charm to its already odd statement of someone’s living quarters. Shiro cast his eyes to the mailbox he now stood beside, noting there was no name or house number on it’s rusted metal design. He scowled slightly, having had a slight hope that maybe he could find his answer without human interaction but of course such hopes were shut down. Even more so when the red painted front door squeaked open, causing the ex-soldier to straighten up and look ahead to it, awaiting the face of the man he had followed out here into the middle of the quiet woods. 

He wasn’t expecting to be met with a rather sad pair of eyes dyed in that dark lilac color, the man not seeming to fully come out from behind the door, as if presenting it as his own shield like Shiro’s clothes were for him. He said nothing to Shiro, only keeping his lips in a somewhat straight line, but they seemed to be trying to curve downwards into a full-on frown. 

Shiro was lost in the sight of what he could only call a broken being, and while he couldn’t quite say what was broken about the other, he felt he was a cause yet again for the man to be making such an expression at him. 

“I...I’m sorry,” Shiro mumbled, replacing the quietness between them with words finally. “I just… I guess I got myself lost.” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the stiffness there before glancing back to the stranger. He now found a glare set in his direction rather than a sorrowful look. 

“Turn around and follow the trail back then.” The response was curt, the voice of the young man trying to sound strong but there was a slight break at the end, a wavering of that strength. It was followed by the door being slammed shut, the stranger disappearing behind it, and Shiro being left to stare in shock at the wall that had instantly been built in front of him. 

He heeded the advice, however, as hard as it was to do. But as he turned he felt like his body was heavy, as if something was trying to hold his feet there. He did his best to shake the feeling though as he descended back down the slight hill the trail had led up, unaware of the sorrowful gaze that was upon his back now, peering through the colored windows. 

Again, Takashi Shirogane found himself alone with his own worst enemy: His thoughts.


	2. Where Ghost Linger

The immaculate house was what Shiro had inherited from his grandparents who raised him. But the home, looking at it now in its pristine white color with its lilac-colored front door and massive wrap around porch, it felt like some haunted abandoned castle from an old fairytale story. He allowed it to loom over him, like the voices in his head, feeling damn near suffocated in the shadow of his old home. But he was here to claim it anew and rebuild it into his place of dwelling for the time being. There had always been a part of him that wanted to live here with a family, the spouse, the kids, the family dog and the lazy cat in the window. He closed his eyes, trying to picture that within the yard beyond the perfect little white picket fence he still hadn’t crossed through yet, but as he tried to force the happy little scene, he was met with that dark spot again, those purple hues glaring into him, the red door being slammed in his face. His eyes snapped open and he was suddenly opening the gate to the property and stomping his feet across the concrete path and up the wooden stairs, his hand coming up from his pocket with the key seemingly out of nowhere. He jiggled the handle just so until it finally popped open and he walked in, shutting the door behind him and then pressing his back to it. He felt the walls closing in, he felt the world’s eyes on him, everything was smothering him to the point he couldn’t even recognize air. 

He slowly sank his body to the floor, his duffle bag falling off his shoulder with a heavy thud as he brought his hands up to his face and his rear down to the floor, knees bending to press to his chest as he inhaled deeply. He felt his whole body shudder with the action, his bones rattling inside of his skin as he tried to collect the broken pieces of himself that now laid in the openness of the foyer. Loneliness was the worst thing for the veteran, it eyed him from every open doorway in the home, peeking around and staring at him with voided eyes carved into a black shapeless being, unrecognizable but somehow he could hear all the whispers it let out to its comrades, Loneliness was invading, a true bully to the everyday person. 

“Go away…. Go away please go away….” Shiro clutched at his head, cybernetic fingers digging into his scalp, he could feel the heat from the interior components. He muttered words to Loneliness in hopes it would dispel it. But it held tight to him for what felt like forever until suddenly there was a crash, causing the soldier to jolt in his fetal position and look up, staring down the hall towards what he knew was the kitchen. He didn’t move quickly to assess the noise, instead moving at a snail’s pace out of fear. What if he was going beyond just his average paranoia, what if along with his PTSD and anxiety was a blossoming poison, a chaotic mix of psychosis and schizophrenia with the base all being severe depression with just a pinch of something else he just couldn’t quite put his finger on? It was a monster, dwelling behind him and debating on making the choice to consume him yet or not. Even now as he slowly shifted down the hall was it behind him, every step forward did the demonic depressive beast slunk forward as well, inching ever so closer to him, a slow pursuit between the wounded prey and the predator. 

Light poured into the stark white kitchen, the afternoon sun twinkling in, causing the particles gently floating in the air to sparkle like diamond dust. The home had been well since abandoned when Shiro took his official leave for the army, his grandparents both having passed away within months of each other after his graduation from the garrison. It was a rough patch, but he was eased to know that they no longer suffered for his sake. 

The will that was left in their wake, stipulated that everything now belonged to their precious grandson. The house, the land in which it sat on, the old 1959 Cadillac Eldorado convertible in its pearl black paint, the furniture, the pictures, and the large sum of money that Shiro couldn’t wrap his head around, sitting in the bank only a few miles in town. He was set, he really could have made the choice to just pull back from the military, call it quits and waste his days enjoying life instead of trying to risk it to save the lives of others. But he went, and here he was now, after the risk was made, he was alive but feeling damn near empty. A shell of what he was and had been. But his sacrifice was worth it right?

He was surprised to find what he did in the kitchen, a black fur covered creature sitting on the floor beside the trash bin that was now lying on its side. This had to be the worst scare ever, here the veteran thought someone was intruding in his house and he would have to fend them off. But instead, it was a cat, black fur and one eye made of gold, the other seeming to be missing. The stare from that single orb felt intense from the feline as it sat there and looked upon Shiro with somewhat annoyance as if questioning why he was here, or perhaps why there wasn’t any food. 

Shiro tilted his head ever so slightly, a frown dawning on his lips. “I… uh… Sorry.” He apologized aloud to the rather large creature, it was by far the biggest cat he had witnessed, it looked somewhat stocky, it’s tail long and thumping against the ground. The soldier raised a brow to the thump of the tail before kneeling down. “I haven’t been here in a few years… I cleared out the place before I left.” He explained as if the cat truly could understand him. It tilted it’s head to that before suddenly letting out a meow to the other like it was responding before then marching forward towards Shiro. 

It brushed up against his leg as he kneeled there and he found himself smiling gently again. “Guess you’re my welcoming committee.” He chuckled softly as he reached his robotic hand out to lightly pet the cat as a show of thanks. “... How about as a thank you, I run out and grab some food for you?” He inquired of the feline and received a rather loud cry in response. “Yeah… I’m a bit hungry too. Maybe I’ll stock up some.” He glanced around to the abandoned kitchen, mentally noting some cobwebs in the window that was above the copper farmhouse sink. He looked to his left to the open dining area, finding the old mahogany table and matching chairs covered with sheets. He sighed heavily to himself, knowing he had some work to do around here to at least make this place livable for the time being until he really figured things out. He looked to the nameless cat before glancing back down the hallway he came from, his belongings still abandoned at the front door. 

The cat called to him again and Shiro let another chuckle escape him. “Alright, alright I’m going.” He looked back down at the cat that was now stretching up his leg and staring at him intently. The soldier reached down to scratch the acquaintance behind his ear before gently pushing him to sit back on the floor, he then departed for the front door again, leaning down to dig through his bag and find his wallet and keys again. He looked back to the cat who sat at the end of the hall, in the entrance way to the kitchen. “I’ll be back soon.” He promised softly, finding comfort in the feline. 

His grandparent’s home was on a quiet street in the south-west part of town, a road of houses that were spaced rather far apart. Paladin Place was actually one of the first neighborhoods ever constructed within Altea and his ancestors had moved into the town not long after it’s construction. He had family lineage here until his father had gone into the military himself and wound up marrying a woman from the Japanese island of Okinawa, from what his grandparents told him, and what he could gauge off old photos, they were madly in love, so much that his father had taken her surname to make it his own. He ended up bringing her here after his deployment was over, and his family was more than welcome to her. But then his father was called away again to the war front this time, destined to never return alive, instead in a casket with a soldier escorting him back. She had a baby during that time, and not long after her husband’s burial did she fall ill. Perhaps it was of a broken heart, his grandmother mused over such a thought often after. Shiro knew his life wasn’t always painted in the brightest light, but he knew he was at least lucky enough to be left in the caring arms of his grandparents. He was blessed enough to have been raised in this quaint town of goodness and caring neighbors and what not, he was lucky enough to even be able to return to such a hidden paradise after all that he had witnessed. 

At his own musing did his steps feel lighter as he made his way back into town, heading for the small corner shop, for now, noting he could make a run to the actual grocery store a little further in on another day, but for right this minute, it was enough. 

A small chime of a bell above him was noted as he walked into the store, eyes instantly scanning over to try and locate where he would mainly need to go, a mental reminder being made for his feline friend back at home. In his scanning did he freeze, the spot of black being caught in the corner of his eye. He backtracked, eyes shifting back to the spot and finding its source. It was the third time today, perhaps it was a charm. 

The black haired art shopkeep stood with a can of some sort of non-perishable in his hand, his other arm cradling the handles of a small red shopping basket with a few other selected items in it. One, Shiro distinguished, as a small six-pack of cheap beer. The smaller male rotated the can in his hand, seemingly unaware of the new arrival in the shop as he kept up his browsing, looking rather comfortable in his dark purple hoodie and black pants, a transition from the clothing he wore earlier during the day. Shiro found it almost charmingly adorable how the hoodie seemed to swallow the other up, but he seemed cozy in his own way, looking casual and not as defensive as he had during their minor confrontation at the other’s home just a mere two hours or so ago. 

Now came the major inquiry: To approach, or to simply go about his needed business here within this little shop and act like he never witnessed the other? If he approached, maybe he could offer an apology for earlier, explain that he just really wanted to talk and in doing so followed the other to his home-- Shiro shook his head to the thought, knowing full well that he would be considered some stalker then, and he wasn’t that in any way. He wasn’t trying to come off as creepy or like some pervert, he really did just want to talk. He wanted to have a conversation with the other, who seemed almost like an outsider on his own. 

Alas though the ex-soldier was not quick enough in his decision when his name was called from across the store. 

“Holy Crow! It really is you, Shiro!” A familiar face came bounding his way yet again today, almost like Lance had done earlier. Heavy set and dark-skinned, his face was always a true blessing to see, Shiro felt himself smiling in return. 

“Hunk!” His voice changed, becoming rather chipper as he took a step forward. If anyone knew Hunk then they knew his happiness and kindness to be damn near contagious during an interaction. Shiro extended his hand in welcome to the other but was met with a rather tight embrace from Hunk instead, the other favoring a good squeeze over a simple handshake. The soldier faintly heard the slight cracking of bones from the tightness of the hug, letting out a surprised sound of air from his own mouth before he was then released. 

He let his eyes briefly fall to the mysterious shopkeep who he had been eyeing just a few seconds ago, only to be caught off guard by the other’s expression. Purple hues were widened as if in fear, staring directly at himself and Hunk before the small body enveloped in the hoodie started to move, quickly placing the can he had been reviewing back on the shelf and abandoning the basket of items on the same shelf as well. 

Hunk seemed to catch on, following Shiro’s own eyes to the sudden clatter. “Oh..,” His smile fell at the sight as the art shop employee seemed to dash out of the corner store, abandoning his future purchases with the seeming attempt to simply just escape from here. The soldier watched for a long moment at the now closed door, the bell having settled back into silence after the stranger’s departure. His head then snapped back in the direction of Hunk, expression now serious as he looked upon his old friend who seemed to now look nervously at him. 

“Who… was that?” Shiro asked hesitantly to him, a frown settling back onto his lips for yet another time today. 

Hunk’s hesitance lasted for a good solid minute as he twiddled his fingers, obviously unsure in regards to disclosing that information before he finally seemed to cave, shoulders sagging in defeat. “That… was Keith.” The answer was short to start but it was enough. 

“Keith? And he works at that art shop down the way right?” Shiro tried to press the other for more, curiosity dangling in front of him and he was quick to jump at it. Curiosity killed the cat, but eventually brought it back right? 

“Uh yeah… but he’s a bit of a recluse.” Hunk explained, still seeming nervous with his replies to the veteran. 

“Has he always lived here in town?” Shiro rounded the other, becoming comfortable in the conversation topic as he now started to browse for what he came here for within this little shop. 

Hunk watched him, seeming to take his own mental notes of the ex-soldier as he moved about the place. “Yeah…” He moved towards the storefront counter as Shiro looked over a few cans of wet cat food and then shifting over slightly, eyeing the shelf a moment longer before grabbing something else and continuing his browsing. 

“Is he a friend of yours?” Shiro looked over to Hunk with furrowed brows of continuous questions, he needed to know what he could, it was almost like gaining intelligence on the enemy, except this mystery man wasn’t the enemy, just someone he was interested in knowing and maybe even… befriending in this lonely corner of the world. He felt the shadows lingering in each nook and cranny of the place, the whispers starting to rise up. He needed to hurry or it would catch him soon, whichever voice it was. 

“Well… we knew each other in high school and all.” Hunk scratched at the back of his neck, looking down at the counter only to blink in somewhat surprise as Shiro sat all of his items down. Hunk was quick to note that Shiro selected the cheap pack of beer that Keith had originally placed in his own basket. His brown hues then shifting to look at Shiro with a brow slightly arched. 

“I see… and… you work here?” Shiro was dwindling down on his questions, trying not to pester his old colleague too much. 

“Well, it’s not my full-time thing. I actually work at the culinary school over in Balmera. But mom owns this place and when I can I try to come and give her a break. Ya know?” Hunk offered a smile yet again, it’s infectious nature catching on to Shiro again as he gave a gentle smile in return. 

“You haven’t changed Hunk.” Shiro complimented softly. “Glad to hear you’re in a field I know you enjoy too.” 

“Yeah, it’s really great… I’ve also been lucky enough to meet a really great girl over there. She helps run the garden next to the school. Her name is Shay and just man she is so awesome. You should see her.” Hunk was practically gushing over his dream girl, a blush adorning his cheeks as he spoke, now bagging up the veteran’s purchases. 

“Well, maybe we could… hang out sometime?” Shiro suggested as he exchanged money and belongings with the other. 

“Oh yeah, that would be great! I could get a hold of Pidge too, she’d love to see you again too I’m sure.” The larger continued to smile in Shiro’s direction. “She’s been busy working in the city on this cyberneti--” 

“I know.” Shiro held up his arm, giving a sideways smile as Hunk stopped his rambling to look at the prosthetic in it’s glistening metal state. 

“Holy Crow… Is that it? Her cybernetic scaultrite prosthetic?” Hunk leaned forward to look it over, causing Shiro to chuckle at his reaction. 

“If you’re talking about my hand, then yeah that’s it. This is all her designs with the help of the doctors at the hospital. It’s really amazing what she’s come up with such a short amount of time.” Shiro looked to the appendage, despite the lack of actual nerve end feeling, the fact he could even be able to move like he could with such a piece was downright incredible. 

“Man, that is so cool… Wish I could have helped out with it.” Hunk stood back up straight and smiled again. “It’s good to see you back here though… we all missed you.” 

“Yeah… I missed you guys too. We’ll really need to get together. Lance too, I saw him earlier today.” Shiro replied, taking his bag and turning his body slightly. “I’ll see you around Hunk, don’t work too hard.”

“You either. Have a good evening!” Hunk called after him as he left the store, the bell tolling again before falling silent, leaving Hunk to debate if what he disclosed was for the best. 

It was dawning closer to nightfall, the sky painted a series of colors, from a burnt orange to a deep almost black like purple or blue. Stars were slowly starting to become visible as Shiro made his way down the sidewalks of Altea yet again that day. In his left hand did he grasp his own personal purchases for himself and the nameless feline back at home. In his right did he carry the six-pack of beer that Keith seemed to have intended to purchase during his time at the store. This was aiming to be a means of apology, but the more Shiro thought about it, he may be scaring the other again if he showed up unannounced. His brain battled again as he meandered up Marmora Avenue, and now up the dirt path, his body functioning as if he had done this more than just the now two times he had today. It was like it was built into him, but he didn’t recognize that feeling as he reached the dilapidated fence and the lonely looking shack. It looked almost haunted with the trees behind it, what was left of the sun just barely peeking through. It appeared as if no lights were on and a part of the soldier felt almost relieved to know that this “Keith” might not be home, while confliction struck him with worry over the same fact. 

He approached the front step of the little building and gently placed the pack of beer down before stepping back. “... Maybe next time.” He sighed before then backtracking down the path and towards his own home. The difference was immense, his own place looking far more warm and welcome than from the shack he had visited. The front porch light was on, the lilac color door looking almost white in the shining of said light. He fished out his keys and played out the momentary battle with the front door of getting it to unlock. Another mental note was made to maybe get the lock replaced sometime soon so it wouldn’t be quite the struggle. As he entered into the foyer did he place a hand against the wall to find the light switch, flipping it up to illuminate the world around him. His eyes fell to the duffle bag he left haphazardly on the floor only for his attention to then be called by the loud meow of his nameless companion. His grey hues then looked up to find the cat heading down the hallway from the kitchen towards him. He smiled. 

“Sorry I took so long buddy.” He leaned down to pet the cat in greeting, grateful at least to have someone here with him in this mass of loneliness, the creatures still lying in wake in every corner to come out and grab him and break him down further. He clung to the surface though, this cat acting as some sort of life preserver, while a name to put with a stranger’s face was his guiding star. If he could manage to stay afloat, maybe one day he could make it to shore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are much appreciated! And if you want you can come and visit me over on my [tumblr](http://solarscarlet.tumblr.com).


	3. Beyond Aphelion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is going to focus heavily on Keith. For me personally, Keith is actually my favorite VLD character out of anyone, in the show I can relate to him constantly. Ironically enough though it's a lot of things that Shiro's says that sticks with me, I have some of his quotes up in my office at work. 
> 
> **Also a note for this chapter's title:** _Aphelion is an astrological term that refers to the point of orbit of a planet, asteroid or other astrological mass that is farthest away from the sun._
> 
> Now onward with the chapter!

Coming outside and finding his intended beer purchase from the previous night was not really what Keith expected to see first thing this morning when he opened his front door. It was the break of dawn, light settling in through the trees and onto his property, the glint of the glass bottles causing him to wince and look away for a moment before carefully making his way out onto the little porch of his home. He glanced around in suspicion of the forest surrounding him, wondering if someone was perhaps trying to fool him, a villainous prank of the town’s “recluse”. He wouldn’t put it past some of them, he knew his own mentality was on a downward spiral into the murky depths of what he summed was depression. But how couldn’t he? How could he not get past this? People expected him to get over it, but he was lucky enough to have a few old acquaintances playing into his own little game. But even that sort of terminology felt wrong. He never intended for his own life to be this way, running from what was once love, fearful of hurting someone while intentionally hurting himself. 

The lid of one of the beer bottles came off rather crisply as he then threw it back, letting the cheap taste yet again soil his throat and dump into his stomach to rot. He was somewhat blessed, his stomach still flat despite going nearly three years at this drinking thing, admittedly it was over the past few months had it gotten worse. He started off small, a bottle here or there on the nights he felt that bit of loneliness creep up on him. Then those days faded into months and the single bottle maybe once a week became a cruel friend that visited him once daily. Then the count grew and grew until now it was a solid six-pack every night, he could do more but kept fighting off the second purchase each time he went to the store. As he drank the bottle, the rest of the case hung in his other hand. He felt outright shitty, his body sluggish, his eyes were dry from tears he faintly remembered crying the night before, eventually giving out into a dreamless sleep. Unfortunately, it was a workday as well, which didn’t bode comfortably with him as he loosened his hold on the sole bottle and then let it fall and bust into several pieces on his porch. 

He didn’t flinch at the sound of breaking glass, instead slowly following the noise with his eyes and looking down at the mess he had created. His amethyst eyes glazed over as he got lost in the haphazard of glass pieces. If he pinpointed it, this was him, but his fall was so much slower than just now with the empty bottle. His descent was moving at a snail’s pace, but he was slowly breaking as well, the cracks growing bigger now that his worry entered back into town just yesterday. A beautiful tragedy had crossed the barrier by bus just yesterday, and he had tried to play ignorance to bliss until his little-known piece of hurt came to stare into the art shop window. 

It had scared him, petrified him even, he had distracted himself solely with the work of art in his grasp, baring his back to the world and dropping his guard only to be outright surprised by his fear looming beyond the glass. A beautiful phobia staring back at him with an almost puzzled gaze while Keith was feeling the life sucked out of him, those eyes, those gentle grey eyes boring into him. He had felt the pins prick at his heart until finally one punctured through the organ and he was rushing off, toppling the painting over in the process without much care. He ducked into the back room and hid there, caught in a panic attack. He had thought he was over them a few months back, then again he thought he was over the drinking thing too, yet he was already reaching for that second bottle. And it was only half past seven in the morning. 

The walk to work felt like a frantic chase, he was looking everywhere, ducking his head down, dodging glances, his heart jumping up into his throat when he thought he caught the eye of that ever familiar shadow. His pace was fast but even with such a swift walking speed, he felt like the commute was ever so dreadfully long. Eventually, though, salvation was reached as he swung open the front door of the art shop and made his way in, passing by the paint supplies along with the small assortment of sketch pads, he continued to keep his eyes down though only to grunt when he hit a rather hard object. He jerked back, eyes snapping up in shock, thinking he’d have to face his fear again today. 

“You’re earlier than usual, Keith.” A man with dark almost raven colored hair raised a brow to the seemingly shorter employee. He was a foot taller than Keith, his age showing mostly in his hair with the strips of grey matching on each side of his head where his hair seemed to come to points, ever since starting here Keith always felt if he had to describe such a hair-do it would be like that of cat ears. His sideburns also seemed to poke out and he had a close-shaven goatee, his skin a bit tanner compared to Keith’s own pale complexion. 

“Uh yeah….” Keith glanced away, avoiding the studying gaze of none other than Thace, his employer. Those honey colored eyes bore into him until the man leaned down and in, studying closer. 

“.... You look like you need to paint something.” The elder tilted his head before standing back up to his full height. “I can tell, your emotions are spastic and I can smell the beer on you. You need another outlet, I know yesterday was rough for you.” He jerked a thumb behind him. “I’ve got an easel set up in the back room, some new paints came in and I need someone to test them out.” 

The shorter glanced back up. His boss always seemed to be the one out of anyone to understand him. Sure he still had friends from his high school days but even they felt distant in some way. Maybe he had pushed too hard, maybe he had brought the broom out too soon to try and run them all under the carpet and forget. Anything to forget. That’s all life was becoming, a run from bitter memories. 

“Are you sure?” Keith responded in a near whisper only for Thace to clap his hand over the boy’s shoulder and guide him past the register counter and to the back, brushing aside the curtain that separates the “Employees Only” backroom, and the rest of the store. He kept guiding the boy along through the narrowed corridor until they reached a door that was cracked open.  
“Just get in there and let it out. We don’t open for another hour anyway so just go for it.” Thace then pushed him forward, forcing Keith into the makeshift art studio behind the ajar door. He stumbled in and looked at the canvas that was all set up, the new box of paints already settled on a stool just a few feet away from the easel. 

He was hesitant to approach at first, glancing behind him at the now shut door before slowly trailing his eyes around the tiny room. A single floor lamp sat beside the easel in the room making it the single brightest spot with the walls and it’s shelves blending into a dingy and dark, almost black like color. Keith felt more at home in those parts, the darkness being no stranger to him over the past three years. The light was just another way to conjure up ugly recollections, but eventually after a few solid moments of hesitation did he approach, stripping off his worn red jacket and dropping it on a pile of boxes in the dark. He didn’t bother to fetch an apron to wear as some sort of protection, instead open to the idea of not only making a mess of the pure white canvas before him but of himself as well. 

He dug his hands deep into the box, beginning his selection of colors, his mind wandering to dark places for the deepest of inspirations. While Keith wouldn’t call himself a good artist, he could at least somewhat agree that this was a hobby for himself. It was enough, it kept him from diving over the edge and Thace had noticed that when they first met. It was two years ago and the loneliness and abandonment was already suffocating Keith so he attempted to find a job to perhaps pass the time. The interview wasn’t really a professional format as it was an emotional one. Thace recognized Keith’s emotions and in doing so encouraged Keith to try a new means of releasing them. After one night of simply painting with the boy did Thace hire him and things seemed good. The first year was great, Keith was settling, he was smiling and always bringing in open letters that were notably tucked in his pocket. He claimed they were his sense of inspiration. 

Then one day the letters stopped, and the mood changed, the calm was over and the storm came in seemingly without warning. A few weeks went by and then Keith was asking to take leave for a week. He stated it was a personal matter he had to attend to. 

He was only gone for two days. Thace had seen him getting off the bus and heading straight for the small convenience store only to then leave with a rather large case of beer. He didn’t pursue after that though, instead waiting for the week-long time off to end. Keith was late on his first day back to work and he looked like the walking dead. 

Thace still didn’t pry, but eventually, after a solid month of Keith’s latenesses and his constant reeking of alcohol, he took it upon himself to interrogate those he knew Keith was close with. It then did he learn the crushing reality that was swallowing Keith whole. 

He had confronted the other about it and Keith broke down into actual tears. He explained his plans though, to try and get over all this and to try and make a smooth transition. And willingly, for Keith’s sake, Thace chose to honor those plans and go along with them. For the store owner personally, he saw Keith almost as a son rather than a shopkeep. 

Keith had already painted over the canvas in black, a mental note made that this was perhaps the richest and deepest black colored paint he had ever worked with. He pursued a deep navy blue next, his brush meeting the slowly drying black rather roughly before he started to swing his arm in sporadic motions to either side, creating arcs and random curves before going higher into arches and then dipping into chasms. He dove into a violet hue next, then a dark grey. His depression shook him. If he had to describe the feeling it was like being lost out in space, no longer in orbit, no longer thought of as a part of the system. He grabbed a new brush to dip into the white before then brushing his fingers along the bristles, allowing the paint to splatter and land onto the canvas without determined location or purpose. 

Perhaps though, each star did have a purpose. Maybe they served as something in that particular place. He envied them, he envied their burning cores of cosmic dust. He wanted purpose, he wanted a means to remain here. He wanted to be grounded, he wanted to fall back into orbit, to rotate back around the one who had come to keep him together. But he was losing it, a planet about to combust, a star about to go supernova as it drifted further away, out of purpose, out of the rotation, out of everything life had to offer. He was a falling star, one that was without someone to wish on him. And he crashed into this crater, the lowest point of his life. 

“Keith it’s almost time to open shop--” Thace had peeked his head back in nearly forty-five minutes later only to stop himself in the entrance way. 

Keith stepped back from his work, dropping the dirtied brushes into a cup of water. He stared at the “completed” canvas with a slight frown on his face. This was what the inside of his mind mostly looked like, somewhere off and far away. The canvas was painted like the galaxy that huddled around the earth, the dark space with specks of light scattered. But closer to the upper right corner was a seemingly dead planet. It was hard to notice at first as it’s dark brown colors were fading into the rest of the painting as if disappearing without anyone’s acknowledgment. This was Keith, he was that dying rock, crumbling apart, never to be mended. 

He slowly looked to Thace. “They’re a good selection.” He spoke up and then moved to pick up the box that held the rest of the new products before moving to head out. “I’ll go put these out and get the sign turned.” Keith relayed as he moved back down the hallway and out back into the main store area to set to his work, leaving Thace alone with the piece. 

The owner approached the canvas, eyes landing on every inch of the thing before moving to carefully pick it up and carry it out, he could always clean up the mess later, but this work felt like it needed to be seen. It was crying out. Thace carried it beyond the back room, walking past Keith who seemed lost in putting the new products up on a particular shelf. Thace moved to the storefront, right behind the windows, daylight fully shining in now as he settled the painting onto its new display easel, facing it out for the whole town of Altea to see. He then left it be, stepping away and looking to Keith as he continued his work, lost amongst the stars. 

The workday was seemingly quiet to start, the local art teacher of the elementary school stopping in per their usual once a week shopping spree, adding new brushes and colors to their collection before leaving. Keith wasn’t aware that his work of art had made it to the storefront, instead keeping himself preoccupied with chores, wiping down product shelves and checking stock, dusting off the counter and arranging supplies for optimal use. He found some solace in this job as it wasn’t something too overwhelming or out there, for the most part, it was quiet and honestly calming, the faint sound of classical music always playing over the speakers. It was nearly noon, everything was smooth, it was quiet, his heart had settled into a regular beat. While happiness wasn’t felt he was at least somewhat content for the first time today, depression tried to creep itself over the line but he remained focused on his work. 

But then everything was doomed, of course, it was all wishful thinking. He must have thought about it too hard because here came his problems, walking right through the front door. It was the voice he caught first, unrecognizable, soothing as it had always been, but it felt as if it were missing something, strength? No, Takashi Shirogane had always been strong. 

Keith grew rigid in his place down one of the aisles where the shelves were tall enough to hide him. He was petrified, a deer caught in the headlights, unable to move. He was being crashed in to, he could have sworn his heart just stopped. He needed to run, to hide, but he couldn’t budge. 

Thace was quick to head towards the front, approaching the causes of Keith’s emotional distraught. He greeted Shiro as he would anyone, giving a friendly smile to him. “Shiro, it’s great to see you. What can I help you with today?” He left off the ‘we’ Keith noted, probably his own form of safety as not to note that anyone else was actually here working today. 

Shiro’s face, well at least to Thace, came off as disappointed to the wording as he briefly glanced around before then gesturing back to the storefront window. “That painting up there… Is it for sale? I’m trying to… get myself settled back in and the walls in the house are pretty empty. I think it would look great but I wasn’t sure if it was just for show--” 

Thace froze for a single moment, body tensing. He hadn’t expected Shiro of all people to waltz in here and request Keith’s brand new painting. He relaxed again, falling back into his act. “I’m sorry which one is it? I honestly don’t remember what I have up there.” He headed for the front, having Shiro walk with him to indicate the inquiry despite the owner already knowing what it was. 

Keith didn’t hesitate, he wasn’t aware his work was up there but he was sure as hell quick to dart for the back, hiding away in the darkness of the storage room again as he clutched at his chest. Another panic attack slamming into him just like yesterday. It was moments later that Thace came walking back. 

“Keith-” He had to call the boy’s name a second time when it didn’t register, placing a hand on the shorter one’s shoulder. 

Eyes of amethyst shot up to stare at Thace, his chest heaving. He felt like he could be sick any moment but he needed to get his shit together for Christ Sakes! This was his employer looking at him right now! 

“Y-Yeah?” His voice came out, a choked out whisper as he slowly composed himself again. “Is… is he gone?” 

“No. Not yet but he’s insistent on buying your painting.” Thace explained, rather straightforward. “I came back here because I told him I would have to call the artist to get an idea of pricing or if it was just for show.” 

“W-wait… what painting?” He was confused, brows gently furrowing, he felt a headache coming on. 

“The one from this morning.” Thace sighed and dropped his hand from the younger’s shoulder. “I’m sorry but I put it out for display. I thought it was honestly your best work and that it needed to be seen but I should have gotten you permission first-” 

“He can take it.” Keith blurted out to not only the surprise of himself but of Thace. 

“Take it?” The owner blinked several times. 

“Just… just charge him for however much the paints and the canvas were.” The creator looked down. 

“Keith you should be compensated for the time you took to do it as we--” 

“No. For me… the time it took is nothing. And… and if he… if he wants it then… he can have it. I just want to make sure for you the cost of the supplies is covered.” He looked back up to Thace. 

“You’ll need to sign it.” Thace pointed out. “I can’t sell unsigned work.” 

“That’s fine.” Keith willingly agreed and watched as Thace disappeared again, gone for nearly ten minutes before coming back. He grabbed a permanent marker from off the top of one of the boxes and turned the canvas onto its backside. Keith was a few moments in signing the painting before stepping back with a slight frown.  
Thace hesitated in leaving the boy again before moving to leave for the counter. 

Shiro had out a checkbook and was filling it out thoughtfully, looking up when Thace came back with the painting all properly wrapped up for travel. 

“It’s really… a nice piece, are you sure about the price though? It seems a little low…” The veteran frowned slightly. 

“It’s what the artist wanted so I can’t really change that.” The owner shrugged and gently placed the painting on the counter. 

“Alright…” Shiro looked back down at the check, still having not written out the amount he was paying before then leaning back down to do so. He then tore it out carefully with his robotic limb, biting the inside of his cheek and praying he didn’t tear it out too roughly. He then slid it over to Thace. “Well… Thank you.” The ex-soldier moved to carefully pick up his purchase, offering a smile to Thace. “Let them know it’ll have the perfect spot in my home.” He was then making his way out, seeming to cradle his new decoration with the utmost care as he disappeared down the sidewalk. 

“Is he gone?” Keith peeked his head out past the back room curtains, like some rabbit peeking out from its burrow on the lookout for possible predators. 

“Yeah, here.” Thace turned to the other as he fully came out from behind the fabric, he extended the check in his artist’s direction. 

“What is this for?” Keith looked confused as he took the check and looked it over, only for his eyes to widen. “T-Those supplies cost that much?!” He looked back up to his employer in a panic. 

“No. I told him it only cost around ten dollars. But he wrote the check out and wanted me to tell you that it’ll have the perfect spot at his place.” Thace softened his gaze as Keith looked back down at the check, his hands trembling. 

“He put… too many zeroes.” Keith whispered, staring at the carefully written ‘ _one thousand dollars xx/100_ ’ on the line with the numerical number right beside it. His signature as perfect as it always had been on the bottom line. 

“It’s all yours.” His employer shrugged casually only to jolt as Keith was suddenly bolting out of the store. “Keith?! Where are you going?!” Thace ran after him, stopping just outside his storefront, watching as his young employee ran around the street corner. 

Shiro had the painting tucked under his left arm, his human fingers just barely able to curl around the bottom of the wrapped canvas to keep it there. The painting had left him with mixed feelings, while he was captivated by the beauty of it, the way it truly felt like the far reaches of space, it left him feeling melancholic as well, it sank his heart as he took notice of the dead, crumbling planet up to the corner of the work. He had to wonder if that was an intention by the artist, maybe they wanted that dim planet to be noticed over all the galactic swirls of color and the shining stars. If so, Shiro understood it, he was that planet, fragmented, lost out where no one could reach. But in that he found comfort in the unknown artist, maybe there was someone else out there, just like him, lost on the rings of Saturn, or perhaps trapped in an asteroid belt somewhere. He looked down with a bittersweet smile on his face as he continued down the street. 

“HEY!” 

The one-word call halted him though. It was hauntingly familiar, he knew the voice, but just the overall simple pronunciation of it felt embedded already in him. He slowly turned, hearing the panting of the one who stood behind him. 

Keith had his hands clasped over his knees as he breathed in and out, catching his breath. His eyes were narrowed though at Shiro, which caught the veteran by slight surprise. 

“What.. the hell... Is this?!” Keith held up the check high enough for Shiro to see, surely along with all the other passers-by. 

Shiro turned fully in his spot to face him, looking somewhat hurt himself. “You… painted this?” He made a slight gesture to the painting that was still tucked under his arm. 

“Yeah I did and you went and wrote this check out! What the hell is wrong with you?!” He felt angry, why was it the other could so easily do something like hand a thousand dollars over to a practical stranger? 

The warrior blinked at that, shocked again by the other’s demanding questions before he then softened his gaze, this made even more sense to him now. He smiled thoughtfully at Keith. “To me, this picture is actually worth more than that, it’s priceless. It says a lot from what I can tell. But I stuck with the whole ‘a picture is worth a thousand words’ thing.” Shiro shrugged rather casually, eyes closing as he broadened his smile. 

He was shocked, Keith was outright shocked. He stared at Shiro with wide eyes, pupils dilated and unblinking. His thoughts were trying to wrap around what the other just said, trying to comprehend, to understand. But then the gears were thrown into reverse, depression rearing its ugly head on him and hitting the switch. He grabbed the check with both hands and started tearing it up. 

Shiro’s eyes snapped open at the tearing sound of paper, watching as Keith tore it to minuscule pieces before those pieces scattered into the subtle wind of mid-day. It was his turn to be shocked. 

“I don’t need your pity or your understanding.” Keith wiped at his eyes before turning to run back off from where he came. 

“W-Wait!” Shiro found himself attempting to follow but he nearly lost his hold on the painting. He was quick to grab it with both hands before looking back up, Keith nowhere to be seen now. 

Keith burst back into the shop, surprising Thace who had given up in his own pursuit of the boy. “..Keith?” 

The boy disappeared into the back room and was quick to lock himself in the closet-like bathroom, pressing his face into his hands as he finally sank into his ocean of tears. He tried to breathe but his whole body trembled with each strangled sob. His walls were building back up all over again, and it was all his intention. He didn’t want to ever be connected to that man anymore. He couldn’t. The love of his life didn’t remember him anymore, what point to life was there now? All he could do was continue his slow burnout, a dying star, unable of resurrection, lost in the forgotten corners of space-time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are welcome and kudos are much appreciated! You can also catch me on my Tumblr [solarscarlet](http://www.solarscarlet.tumblr.com) where I'll be more than happy to answer any questions or inquiries about this story or VLD in general!


	4. Trailing the Abandoned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for having not updated in a few weeks! My job got pretty crazy but I'm happy to finally be slowing down a bit to present you guys with the next chapter! You can come visit me over on my [tumblr](http://solarscarlet.tumblr.com/) anytime! Thank you to everyone for all your support!

It was early, far too early for the majority of town to be up, yet here was Takashi Shirogane carefully making his way down the stairs of his large home. A few days in and any sort of settlement was still too difficult to manage. The bed was too soft for him, he felt like it was those God-forsaken shadows slowly trying to pull him down into a nightmare. He would drift but never reach a sound sleeping point. Maybe the couch in the living room would be a place to try if this kept up. Normalcy was not so easy to come by. Much like anything else around here. 

Shiro sighed as he dragged his heavy feet into the kitchen, the sun was just barely making a crack of light in the sky, the dark night starting to lighten into a wine like color that left the room with a slightly eerie feel. He didn’t bother with the light switch, however, a part of him terrified of the light that could very well blind him. If it came on too fast it felt as if he were watching an explosive go off back during his tour, that left him shaky, a blow to his usual ability to lead, but who wouldn’t be shaken by the sight of a damned mine a few yards away, suddenly going off in front of you and you could swear you saw the limb of a poor local flying off somewhere, another dark spot to note on the service record. 

He hit the start button rather hard on the old coffee pot that sat tucked away in a corner. And then he waited, tiredly, his vision still a bit blurry around the edges from what he gave the simple label of sleep. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt fur brush against his legs, heart leaping into his throat only to look down and see that one gold eye peering up at him from the darkness of the floor. 

“Kuron… God, you scared me.” He placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart thumping wildly before he then breathed out. He settled his gaze back on the cat, just barely making out the shape of him in the slowly lightening room, the morning sun creeping ever further over the horizon. 

The cat purred loudly before moving to leap up onto the counter, Shiro now finding the feline easier to see. He didn’t mind the behavior of his housemate so long as he didn’t hop up here with dirty paws then it was mutual and accepting. 

“Morning.” Shiro allowed himself to settle again as he reached out to pet the feline. He came to the decision of a name just last night as he laid in bed, he felt they were alike in their own way, hence the name meaning ‘clone’. He and this cat had their wounds and their beaten and bruised past, but yet they had happened across one another, fated friends if anything. A united front on this battlefield noted as life. 

Shiro served himself coffee and his feline friend lounged on the counter as he now stood there, slowly losing himself into the madness of thought. Yesterday felt like it had been going great, he was working on a few furnishings for the house, keeping his shopping local to the few stores in town with supplies. He happened across that painting that struck him almost painfully with understanding and sorrow. He had to have it, but he wasn’t expecting for that beautiful blur of black to appear before him, radiant in the daylight, despite how harsh Keith had looked Shiro still found him to be captivating. It was some invisible pull, like gravity trying to ground him and Keith together. It didn’t come off as mutual, especially when Shiro witnessed the tearing up of the money he had paid for the art piece. It was a defeat, but one lost battle wasn’t enough to stop the veteran from at least trying to befriend the town’s so-called ‘recluse’. He wanted to know why someone like Keith would ever be given such a title, and why it was that everytime Shiro locked gazes with him, it felt like the other was in nothing but agony. 

His thoughts came to an abrupt end when the front doorbell was rung, the sun fully cascading it’s light into the kitchen now. His coffee already going cold as he hadn’t even bothered to sip at it. He pressed himself away from the counter, though hesitant as he peeked his head down the corridor that lead to the front of the house. Another ringing of the bell tolled and Shiro stiffly moved, Kuron hoping down from the counter to join him, facing the fear together again. 

Kindness was what met him beyond the lavender colored door. A woman standing tall, in a simple knee-length blue dress that seemed to reflect her blue hues with flecks of what one would deem purple within them. Her hair was like starlight, a silver-tone, shining in its waves and framing her face perfectly. Her dark skin was without any imperfections, her fingers curled around the handle of a covered basket. Shiro mentally noted the glint of a ring on the woman’s left hand, seated perfectly on her ring finger. 

“Allura?” The ex-soldier blinked several times. She was always known for her beauty, but equally so for her kindness and grace, in addition to her resounding intelligence. 

“Shiro!” She stepped forward to embrace the other, making the veteran stiffen for a moment before smiling to himself and giving her a gentle squeeze back. She always knew how to welcome someone. Allura pulled back after a moment. “Lance told me you made it back in the other day, I’m terribly sorry I haven’t had the chance to stop by and welcome you back. I’m afraid it’s been a test week for everyone at the school.” She explained in her charming accent. 

“So you’re teaching now?” Shiro raised a brow, recalling how the other had been in school, always wishing to relinquish her knowledge to others. She was always one to give and never to take. 

“I am. I have been for nearly two years now.” She smiled even brighter before blinking and then thrusting the basket in her hands forward. “Ah! These are for you, Lance and I had a bit of a baking session together last night. We wanted to share them with you.” 

“That explains the ring,” Shiro commented as he gave a nervous smile, taking the basket and finding it surprisingly heavy with what he could only guess was numerous baked goods. 

A soft giggle escaped the teacher as she clutched her left hand with her right, bringing it to her chest. “Yes, he proposed. For once it wasn’t flashy though, it was simple…. Charming really.” She looked down at her hand, seeming to gaze at the jewel almost lovingly. “We’re set to marry a few months from now, later in the summer.” She then met Shiro’s eyes again. “We’d love to add you to the invitation list if you’d like?” She raised a brow, unsure of the other’s response. 

Shiro looked somewhat surprised, having not expected an offer to attend. He smiled warmly back at her. “I’d like that…” 

Again her eyes were ablaze with light as she clapped her hands together. “Splendid! Lance will be thrilled… now if only we can encourage Keith to--” She stopped herself, having moved to dig into the small white colored purse hanging off her shoulder. She lifted her gaze slowly back to Shiro once more, knowing she was caught in the midst of a faulting of words. 

The veteran’s ears were sharp. Like a dog, they pricked at the ever resounding name of the artist. “.... Keith…. Is he a friend of yours and Lance?” He didn’t hesitate to start asking questions. 

Allura tried to hold back from letting her lips curve downwards. “Well… he is a close acquaintance… Lance knew him sometime before I did though.” She explained and glanced away, seemingly unsure of their conversation now and the direction it was going. 

For Shiro, this was a momentary dead end in his quest for knowledge. Not only did those words give him a signal that Allura wasn’t the best to ask, but that also it was uncomfortable for her for one reason or another. The ex-soldier offered a small smile to that. “I see. I was just curious… I ran into him a few times this week and Hunk had mentioned him so I wasn’t sure.” He tried to bluff it as a simplistic curiosity of a stranger but it was beyond that, it was a craving, some yearning buried within his heart to uncover the secret. 

Based on Allura’s new expression Shiro felt like she was staring right through him, down into the dark chamber of his chest. The air changed, like how summer snapped into autumn, one day the trees were green now they were bare, leaves shriveled up and left dying on the ground, an instantaneous switch to what truly lied buried. 

The smile that forced its way onto her face made the other want to cringe at how painful it suddenly seemed for her. “I see. He is a bit mysterious in his own way. Anyway.” She moved to turn away slightly. “I should be going. I have a few errands to tend to before school starts.” She nodded to him. “Take it easy Shiro, and welcome back. We all missed you… dearly.” The pain in her smile became that of sorrow as she looked upon him, as if in pity. “We’ll need to get together sometime.” She then added after a moment. 

“Yeah… Lance mentioned something the other day.” Shiro changed the course of their chat in the same direction. “Maybe you both can come over?” He offered without much thought. 

“I’ll talk to Lance and see if we can maybe schedule something for this weekend?” Allura gracefully arched a brow in return. 

“That’ll work.” Shiro lifted the basket in his grasp. “And thanks again. I won’t be going hungry any time soon.” He let out a soft chuckle. 

“Good. I hope you enjoy them.” She waved him off as she descended the stairs of the front porch, Kuron walking out past the front door and settling himself at the top of the stairs to see the teacher off. The cat let out a call as Allura made her way back up the street. 

“Yeah… me too buddy.” Shiro commented, looking down and slowly diving into his thoughts yet again. 

A few days waxed and waned, Shiro spending most of his time within his home, unearthing relics that had been hidden for the past few years he was gone. Unexpectantly though there wasn’t as much dust as he expected there to be lingering on any of the old photos and furnishings that were tucked away in the attic for safe keeping. He slowly started his re-furnishing of the house, knowing that if he planned to have company then he would need to make this place at least look somewhat inhabitable. 

Allura had given him a call only a day later to tell him to expect them over within the coming days. This was only further motivation to keep going with the decorating, but when it came to the dining room he suddenly felt lost, staring at the sheet covered table and chairs that loomed before him. A central gathering spot all but neglected. He recalled the nights of victory spent here after a game, all of his friends coming over and crowding around to enjoy a freshly baked pie from his grandmother. He recalled how Hunk always pestered for the recipe, how Lance dove in, ruining his team jersey from the game. Allura’s compliments on their win. Pidge, or rather Katie playing back a video of the winning touchdown made by none other than Shiro himself. And then there was his other friend… who would always sit close by to him, silently watching on with those…eyes? 

The veteran was gripping the sheet over a chair at one end of the table, he stared down at it, suddenly bearing the weight of how lonely it felt. Sure, the old gang was still around, but their futures were playing out so well for them. Hunk was a successful teacher of food creation. Lance was a notorious lawyer, marrying a brilliant school teacher who just so happened to be the retired mayor’s daughter. Katie supposedly still visited town often but had gone on into the field of medical engineering, she was a saving grace for the wounded soldier. But what about his own life? He had planned to be a military man for as long as possible, he rose up quick in the few years he served only for it to all be stripped out from under him, and now here he was, chasing after some black haired beauty for the chance to maybe try and reroute himself? His heart was heavy, his mind dark, every step he took he felt that maybe it was in the wrong direction. The shadows around him only grew darker. 

He tore the sheets off the dining room set, squeezing his eyes shut as dust flew, flitting through the air. A loud cry came from Kuron and his eyes snapped open, looking in the direction of the call, to the right of the table the cat pawed lightly at a particular furnishing Shiro had forgotten to figure placement for in his home. 

“Shit!” Shiro was quick to drop the covering sheets to the ground and move over to the still covered painting, he started to tear at the thick paper it had carefully been wrapped in, his fellow feline friend joining in as well, fangs carefully biting and pulling the paper away, revealing the expansion of space on the canvas. The veteran pulled back a few moments later to look it over for any possible damage that may have occurred in its travel here or from it’s few days leaning up against the wall in the dining room. It was just as flawless as ever, but equally just as heart-wrenching, Shiro could have sworn the crushed planet in the upper right corner was looking worse, cracking down further. He smoothed his mechanical hand over it, without physical feeling, but with plenty of emotion. He then looked down to Kuron who was staring at him, as if expectantly. “...Let’s get this up.” 

He lined everything up, hammering the nails into the wall before lifting the painting carefully, glancing behind it to figure the best means of securing it. He paused in his inspection. A bit of writing found in the upper right corner, right behind where the crushing planet was painted. 

_You are but the sun,_  
_and I am beyond aphelion._  
_Banished from your orbit._ \- **K**

A reflection back to highschool astrology met him at reading that. Aphelion was the point that an astrological object was at it’s furthest distance from another object. He remembered that particular class discussion, he wondered what it was like to be at such a point in the universe, the furthest away from a mass that kept you within range, kept you close and within a place of belonging. It must be resoundingly lonely, or so he mused. 

It was easy to put this story together for the veteran. The artist, Keith, in this instance, was talking about himself with someone. The sun was that someone and Keith had somehow been pushed away by them. By what means? Shiro wasn’t quite sure. He looked to the front of the art piece trailing his eyes over every brush stroke, studying, trying to find the answer until it came to him. “...Neither of them had control… it was natural.” He smoothed a thumb over the dying planet in the corner. “A natural demise…” He frowned deeply at the rather melancholic conclusion he had come to at that moment. 

So he took care to the crumbling celestial mass, gently lifting it again and moving to carefully line the back side with the hanging nails he put in. He ensured it was properly secured before stepping back. Silence plagued the room for a moment as the veteran slightly tilted his head, eyes trailing over each individual star on the canvas. 

A ring from the front door dispelled the quiet atmosphere and the soldier was reminded of the food he had ordered for delivery. He was aware of his poor kitchen skills and decided he would spare Allura and Lance from suffering with him. He carefully made his way to the door, always still a bit unsure of what might be waiting beyond. He opened it slow, quick to verify the delivery teen on his front porch, a large plastic white bag in hand with numerous containers inside. Cash was exchanged for the baggage and Shiro gave a small smile with a soft ‘thanks’ to the younger before heading back inside. Kuron was mewling up at him by the time he reached the kitchen and started pulling food out. Shiro moved to shoo the cat off the counter. “Sorry, buddy but not right now. I’ll give you some of mine in a bit, just hold tight until after this get together okay?” He looked down to the feline who seemed heavily agitated with the request being made of him. That single gold hue was narrowed in Shiro’s direction, his tail thumping loudly against the floor as he sat there, ears at attention before slowly laying back against his head. Kuron then rose onto all fours and stalked off, disappearing into the living room quarters of the house. 

Shiro let his gaze drift to the clock on the nearby wall only to curse under his breath and start breaking out proper dishware to use for the food. He went into a mad frenzy to set up everything, carefully placing it all on the table and moving to cover it so Kuron wouldn’t bother if he turned his back. The veteran was putting a few last minute touches together, placing a random old candelabra in the center of the table just in time for another ring to go off at the front. His guest were here and suddenly felt nervous, his stomach doing flips. When the hell was the last time he went to such length for a get-together? 

The answer was never before he never felt the need to try and impress everyone. But now? Now it was a cover, a means to hide his fending psychological issues and show he was perfectly fine with being a wounded soldier, it was a wall being built, a sign being painted on to the road sign in bold letters simply saying: I AM GOOD. 

He wasn’t though, that was a lie, even as he approached the front door with some pep in his step were the dark creatures of depression lingering behind him, as if stitched into his very shadow, the threads made of pure diamond, unable to cut. He felt the unconscious pull from them ever so often. 

He swung the door open, placing a casual, welcoming smile on his lips as he looked at the pair now standing in front of him. Blue seemed to be the color for the happily engaged couple. 

Allura was sporting a pair of high waisted jeans with a white and blue horizontal-stripe short sleeved shirt, her hair pulled back in a bun, her feet clad in a pair of white ballet-esque shoes, she was smiling warmly, holding what appeared to be some type of cake in her hand. Lance was close beside her, one arm around her as he grinned triumphantly, obviously proud to call this woman his future wife. The lawyer stood casually in a pair of khaki pants and a blue shirt, a pair of white and blue tennis shoes on his feet. 

Shiro, unfortunately, was not notified of the theme color this evening, clad in a grey, rather tight fitting v-neck shirt with black cargo pants. He wanted to keep himself simple. He was barefoot currently, feeling the coldness of the hardwood floors beneath him. 

“Hey man!” Lance walked in casually, quick to make himself at home as he looked around. “Wow, this place is lookin’ good buddy!” He complimented, sliding his hands into his pant pockets. 

Allura looked at Shiro, smiling at him as she moved in so the veteran could shut the door. “I’m glad we could get together.” 

“Me too.” The soldier moved to lead them both to the kitchen and dining area. “I uh… ordered out if that’s okay.” 

“Oh good!” Lance spoke up only to wince as Allura elbowed him while setting the cake down on the counter. “Well… you know what I mean… sorry.” Lance apologized as he rubbed the back of his neck, looking guilty in Shiro’s direction. 

“Oh! No, you’re fine I know I can’t cook well so I figured I’d spare you guys.” He gave a nervous smile before looking to the cake. “Allura that looks great--” 

“It’s red-velvet, though Lance was pestering me to dye the inside of it blue to match us. I told him it defeated the purpose.” She smiled at Shiro again. “The cream cheese icing is from scratch as well.” 

“Now I’m craving dessert!” Lance groaned before glancing over at the table. “You got the table all set?” 

“Yeah let’s sit and eat.” Shiro made his way over to the dining table, taking a seat off to the side, allowing Allura or Lance the opportunity to take the head seat but they hesitated. “...Is… something wrong?” The veteran seemed momentarily confused. 

“Well…” Lance glanced to his fiancee who in return exchanged a look. They both looked at Shiro. “The head of the table was always your spot man, I’m not taking that.” 

The soldier widened his eyes slightly at that, the memories of those winning nights hitting him again. That was his spot now that he recalled, it didn’t have his name on it but they all seemed to gravitate to their own seats back then. But Shiro felt like he didn’t really belong there, he eyed the chair almost warily but knew he was keeping his guests in an awkward position. He forced the smile on his face, an awkward laugh choking out of his throat as he got up and moved to take his place at the head of the table. 

Allura and Lance moved to sit across from each other as Shiro settled himself. They dug into the food in unison, Allura saying a thank you to their host before doing so. They enjoyed it, nothing was ever wrong with take out. The quiet feast drifted into light-hearted chatter. 

Allura and Lance went into detail on how the proposal went down. Lance took her out to a small dinner, a relaxing Friday night that wound up with them in a paddle boat out on the lake, a lantern between them, fireflies gliding just over the water, matching the reflection of the stars in the clear sky above. He proposed to her there, he didn’t want to make a ruckus about it this time. 

“I just wanted it to be her and I ya know?” Lance looked upon his future wife like a lovesick puppy. His eyes blinking slowly at her like a cat claiming his comrade. Allura blushed faintly and laughed lightly before looking to Shiro. 

“That’s how it happened.” She shrugged with a smile. “It was charming, truly charming. An unforgettable night really.” 

“It sounds like it… congratulations again.” Shiro raised a glass of water to the blessed couple. 

“I hear Allura already invited you to the wedding! But I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind being one of my main guys?” Lance arched a brow in question to Shiro. 

Another surprise to the veteran, he blinked before gesturing to himself. “Me?” 

“Well yeah, man! Why wouldn’t I want you to be part of my wedding? You’ve been nothing but a hero to me!” The lawyer openly admitted and smiled genuinely at Shiro. “It’d be an honor to have you there.” 

At that did the veteran look down for a moment before looking back to Lance. “You can count me in.” He assured his old classmate. 

“Yes!” Lance threw his fists in the air, a victory for him to have another man in his wedding party. “Now we just gotta get Keith in and we’ll be g-AH!” He winced suddenly and looked to Allura who glared at him. 

Shiro looked at Allura in surprise before a frown started to appear. “...Allura?” 

“Hm?” She looked to Shiro as if she hadn’t just kicked Lance under the table. She recognized the emotions conveyed on the soldier’s features and quickly looked away. “Oh Shiro I wanted to ask… that painting.” She gestured to the expansion of intergalactic beauty on the wall. “Where did you get it? It’s beautiful…” Allura was changing the subject, and Shiro silently released a breath, agreeing to bend despite the ghost of Keith looming in the air. It was fine though since even now they would be discussing a piece of the black beauty. 

“From the art shop in town…. Keith painted it actually.” Shiro spoke up rather casually about the art piece as he followed Allura’s gaze to it. 

Lance and Allura exchanged looks with one another. Allura was frowning again, Lance frowned slightly before looking away and back to Shiro. 

The soldier looked at the painting with longing it seemed, easily distracted by it as he held his chin in his hand. Lance decided this couldn’t go on any longer as he stood up from his seat. Shiro’s trance was broken as he looked to Lance. “Let’s dig into dessert!” The lawyer announced and grinned as he made his way over to the cake on the counter, starting to cut everyone a slice. 

Dessert bled into simple conversations, light-hearted, discussions of the kids at school in Allura’s class, a chat about the most hysterically ridiculous case Lance had tackled in the past few years. Shiro allowed for the pair to distract him from his overwhelming thoughts and the mystery of Keith. He enjoyed how simple the evening became but his curiosity was still digging at him. 

By the end when Allura announced they should get going, Shiro felt as if in a daze, drifting in a place between the reality he stood in currently and the one ruled by his suffocating psychological diseases. He stood with them, offering a false smile as he thanked them for coming. Lance noted that Shiro would need to come over to their place next time. The veteran agreed to such a get together as they reached the front door, the guest couple now standing on the front porch and smiling at Shiro. 

“This was nice. Thank you again for having us.” Allura nodded to him before looking to Lance. 

“It was nice having some company.” The ex-soldier admitted gently and nodded in return just as the couple moved to descend the stairs. “Be careful going home.” He waited until they were beyond the white picket fence and done with their waves before he closed the door, leaning heavily against it and closing his eyes. He heard Kuron calling and then rubbing against his legs, making the soldier crack open his eyes to look down. “Hey…” He leaned down and gently scooped the cat up, cradling him close. “I enjoy your company too… just… not theirs.” He looked down the hall, seeing the darkness looming along the walls, even in the kitchen he saw the shadows drifting and moving to rear in his direction. 

“Lance…” Allura slowed in their return to home. The lawyer stopped, feeling her hand pull him back towards her. 

“What’s up, babe?” He stepped close, taking both her hands with his own now. “You okay? Need me to carry you home?” He smirked. 

“Lance I can’t keep doing this!” She spoke up and looked upon him with glossed over hues. “I can’t keep playing this game when it comes to them both! I know this is what Keith wanted… but we’re lying to Shiro! This is ridiculous!” She was on the verge of tears as she furiously bated her fists against her husband to be. 

Lance gave a heavy sigh as the other pounded on him before he moved to hold her tight. “I know Allura… I know… this sucks. This really freakin’ sucks but I just… I don’t know what to do…” He buried his face in her hair. “I’m sorry babe…” His hand gently moved up and down her back. “Maybe… maybe we can think of something…?” He suggested softly. 

“But what? At this point, Keith may very well leave town… and Shiro seems attached when he doesn’t even remember how important Keith was to him… What could we possibly do?!” She looked back up at her fiancee. 

“...Come on.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get home… and we can talk about it. But dammit all I’m getting both of them to our wedding. We’ll work it out. I promise. I’m not having my wife cry over two other stupid guys.” Lance narrowed his eyes in determination. “We’ll fix this, it’ll all work out… someday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and kind comments are always welcomed and appreciated!


	5. The Inescapable Chasm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there everyone! I hope season 6 of Voltron, well if you watched it... I hope it treated you well! I bring you another chapter! Feel free to visit me over on my tumblr [solarscarlet](http://solarscarlet.tumblr.com/), but please be aware there are spoilers from the latest season on there!

A day off was starting with a bottle of beer for breakfast. Keith sat back in his rickety excuse for a dining room chair, beside his even sadder table which used to be painted white but now it was cracking and peeling. 

His eyes studied the flickering colors on the wall from his stained glass windows, the morning sun cascading into this dump heap and trying to maybe conjure up some sort of cheer. But such a thing wasn’t allowed in a shack like this. The artist kept his fingers curled around the nearly empty bottle, his pointer lightly tapping the glass as he let his mind rot into the realm of loneliness. Depression was suffocating him first thing yet again, how long had it been since he woke up happy? It might have been that week before his dearly beloved left. 

He had spent the night with the other, love was sweet then, bittersweet when he knew a goodbye was coming up the pike in just a few days but, love had that way of turning it all into sunshine and rainbows. Passion flared and love smothered them, drugging them into a happy state of mind. Even in absence of each other coming up soon, they had sworn to always support one another. 

But now in the present? That was a load of shit, and that night felt more like some faulted affair than any sort of passionate lovemaking. It made his heart shatter and fall into the pit of his stomach to be consumed by the alcohol-infused acid there. Life was never meant to go right. Keith knew this, but all his life he had spent trying to fight it off. 

When his mother left he was incredibly young. The whole story of how it happened was still muddled, was it full on unwanted abandonment or was she scared? He would never know. His father’s demise was a slow and agonizing one, lasting into his late middle school days. Death kissed him goodbye after the hard-working father collapsed from a massive heart attack at work one day. In that was Keith briefly introduced to his mother’s brother, his own uncle, Kolivan, who was also unaware of his little sister’s whereabouts. That didn’t matter though as Kolivan fell into the role of a guardian for Keith, though not usually present he provided plenty of funding to Keith to ensure the death benefits left behind by his father were left untouched until he truly needed and could manage it. 

The lost love? That story was too painful, beyond losing both his parents, beyond any discrimination he had ever faced in his life. It could only be described as the following question: What would become of the Earth without the Sun? 

Death. Most certainly so, though only after looming in the dark and drowning in the desolate cold. He recalled the night a few weeks ago where he fiddled with the dagger in his hands, weighing that “without the sun” feeling. That feeble attempt turned into a night of tear shedding hysterics until he passed out in bed, the heirloom knife all but abandoned on the floor. 

The poison within his heart was slowly devouring everything, working its way from his chest cavity to his bloodstream, soon it would encroach on his mind and he would be gone. It had become more painful within the past week. And all he could do was keep playing that beautiful face back in his head and weigh on the fact that his own artwork was now hanging in the home of his lost solar star. 

The vibration of his phone against the table drew him back into the present moments, his first instinct, however, was to look towards the digital clock that sat on the counter in the small kitchenette area. 10:39 A.M. was written there in that neon red. His eyes then fell to his phone. He inwardly groaned, seeing the screen lit up and alerting him to a text message from none other than Lance. 

He didn’t need this today, this week, this month? He didn’t need it anymore, apart of him wished his friends would forget his existence and simply let him disappear. His hand wearily abandoned the beer bottle to grab the phone, picking it up and swiping it open, he allowed the skin of his finger to scrape across the nasty crack that trailed right across his screen from a mishap a few months ago. Sure, he knew he had the savings to get it fixed but for some reason a part of him enjoyed the slight knick he felt against his finger whenever he dared to set his digit on the screen. 

**_-Meet me @ Vrepit Sals 12 sharp!_ **

Keith narrowed his eyes at the seemingly demanding lunch invitation. He moved to ignore it but as soon as he attempted to set his phone back down he received another text. 

**_-Don’t ditch man, we gotta talk._ **

The artist rolled his eyes. Another vibrate occurred a mere second later. 

**_-Either you meet me or I’m coming over._ ******

********

****

“Ugh… fuck.” Keith cursed at that last one, now he was obligated, Lance meant every word he said usually. He had learned that the hard way once, not showing up for a dinner get together or something and a half hour after he was supposed to be there, Lance was knocking hot and heavy on his front door and forcing Keith to his and Allura’s place. He glared at his phone screen before moving to reply with a short and curt response. 

**_Ok.-_ **

He squeezed himself into a pair of tight grey jeans after a shower, sliding on a black shirt and old dark red leather jacket to follow, it was faded like him, a bit raggedy as well but for him it was comfortable. He slid on a pair of black ankle boots and paused to look at himself in his bathroom mirror. His mouth seemed to be permanently set in a frown these days. Oh well. 

The walk felt haunting as he made his way into town. The other day he was petrified to come here, but now he was just melancholic about it. He played the event of Shiro appearing in his head, his lost love coming into his view in his memoryless state. Keith knew the next time he would have to face the other he would need to set him straight, he would need to reject him, spit out every last ounce of venom he had for the both of them to pick up and move on from all this. 

He could see Lance as he rounded the corner, the lawyer seated at an outdoor table with his blazer unbuttoned and showing his pink tie against his white and blue checkered shirt beneath the jacket. He was casual just sitting there, obviously enjoying his ability to get away from the courthouse for an hour. He seemed oblivious to Keith as the ‘recluse’ approached, the lawman instead looking in another direction with a slightly raised brow. It was only when Keith grabbed the chair opposite from him to pull out did the lawyer look his way. 

Lance stood to greet him then, smirking someone, trying to come off playful here but Keith got a different vibe, whatever he wanted to talk about it was serious and deep down the artist was hoping not to get pissed off within the next ten minutes. 

Lance had extended his hand for Keith but he received no shake from his friend who instead sat down and crossed his arms, leaning back slightly in his chair and narrowing his dark violet eyes at his old classmate. 

“Hey man…” Lance softened himself as he too joined to sit again. 

“It’s my day off let’s make this quick,” Keith grunted in response, the feelings weren’t mutual. 

Lance released a heavy sigh, “That’s the wrong kind of reasoning to make this quick Keith.” He looked to him with furrowed brows. “It’s my treat so whatever you want--” 

“Are you pitying me?” There it was, that venom creeping up inside him, his need to hate the world for what it had done to him now taking its full advantage. 

“No Keith. But we seriously need to talk.” Lance leaned himself forward, bearing some weight onto the small round table they sat at. 

“Talk about what Lance? Your latest case? Allura?” He felt stupid even being here. 

“No,” Lance bit his tongue from getting fired up with the other, over the years he tried to reign that side of himself in. Back in school he and Keith were notorious for getting hot-headed with each other, Keith was rough but Lance was equally full of himself. But they were somehow still friends despite their personality differences. “Look the other night Allura and I went over and had dinner with Shiro.” 

Silence settled, the air felt tense and Keith felt like he couldn’t breathe for a moment as he got himself together. After a solid minute did he reply. “So… your point?” 

“You need to talk to him, Keith.” 

“What the fuck Lance?” 

“Look I know you’re scared and--” 

“I’m not fucking scared! You know why I’m doing this so why can’t you just leave all this shit alone?” 

“Because he needs you, Keith.” Lance softened his gaze at the other, his hands on the table balling into a fist as he tried to hold himself in. 

“He doesn’t even fucking remember me so why the Hell would he even need me? I told you before Lance I don’t want to try and make him remember when it’s obvious he won’t. He remembers you and everyone else so just leave it at that.” 

“Keith I mean it--” 

“Dammit, Lance I said drop it! What is it you think you know anyway? You don’t have a damn clue as to what it was like to walk into that hospital and ask to see Takashi Shirogane just for some nurse to tell me that he doesn’t remember me and to tell me he’s got gaps in his memory! You don’t know anything!” Keith hissed out his words, slamming his own fist down on the table. Other lunch partakers were watching the pair. 

This was a breaking point for Lance as the lawyer stood up and reached across the table, grasping onto the collar of Keith’s jacket. “For Christ’s sake Keith!” He shook the other slightly. “Do you not think I didn’t try to put myself in your shoes? I thought about it that same day you came back here and told the gang what happened! I looked at Allura and I asked myself what the Hell would I do if the person I loved forgot me, and I knew my answer wouldn’t be to play this stupid fucking game you’ve got us all doing!” 

“This isn’t a game Lance, this is better for him!” Keith grasped onto Lance’s wrist. 

“How is it better for him?! Tell me!” He shook the artist again in his grasp, not caring about the watching eyes of the public. 

“Because I wasn’t any good to him anyway!” 

Lance shoved the other back down into his chair, the lawyer moving to take his own again as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Keith grunted as he sat back again, moving to eye Lance warily now. 

“Keith, I need to at least tell you that when we went over there the other night he was easily distracted when your name was brought up… and that painting he bought of yours, he looks at it like it’s the most precious thing he’s seen in a long time.” He rubbed his temples, closing his eyes briefly as he collected his own emotions. He was here for Allura, equally so for Keith and Shiro. 

The recluse remained quiet, one leg now crossed over the other as he sat there and looked off to the side, mainly to a place on the ground like it was the most interesting spot he could find. He didn’t need to hear this, he didn’t want to hear this. “...That doesn’t matter. He doesn’t remember me so what’s the point?” His voice was a grumble again, avoiding Lance’s own gaze on him. 

“You can’t keep running from him,” Lance spoke up again and looked away as well, watching as a few cars drove by on the street and few people meandered the sidewalks. “You need to be more honest. If you keep it all in like you’re doing then you’ll just hurt yourself more.” He slid his beaded eyes back over to Keith, mentally noting just how damn sad the other looked sitting there, lost in the sea of the world. 

Keith kept to himself in silence, his vision momentarily burning, despite brushing his teeth he could still taste the alcohol he drank this morning on his tongue. Was this what Lance was talking about? He must have been, Keith knew he was hurting himself but he was running out of willpower at this point, he was on the decline, slipping further and further down and very soon he knew he would be swallowed up whole. 

“And Allura and I… we’re not going to keep playing this game for much longer. I’m not going to lie to a guy who I see as my own hero and Allura sure as Hell isn’t going to keep lying to a friend.” 

The hard punch that came after that was honestly unexpected for Lance, he knew the other was upset but he didn’t expect Keith to up and resort to physical violence in broad daylight. 

The lawyer had fallen out of his chair from the force and Keith hung over him like some wild animal, mouth opened as heavy pants escaped him. “You promised!” The artist kept his fist raised as he practically hollered the words. 

Lance rubbed at his swelling cheekbone as he looked up to Keith before glaring at him. “Grow the fuck up Keith.” He rose back to his own feet, moving to dust off his blazer and adjust himself before turning himself away slightly. “We’re not school kids anymore, I don’t even get how you can keep lying and hiding like you do. But whatever, forget I even bothered to concern myself with you. What I said about Allura and I still stands, the next dinner we have with Shiro, if he asks, we’re telling so you better get yourself straight.” He moved to leave with that said, abandoning Keith at the table with just a small handful of people watching only to quickly go back to their own lunch conversations. 

The world slowly started pushing it’s walls in on Keith, heading full speed and cornering him despite being out in the open. He felt like he was losing air like someone cast him out into space without the necessary equipment to keep him alive. His throat started to feel dry, instantly triggering his mind to be convinced that what he needed right now was a drink. And what better place for that thought to occur than just a few feet in front of Vrepit Sal’s bar? 

He slowly began to waste himself away. He drank slow but he drank heavy, the higher the alcohol concentration the better. His fingers seemed to fit perfectly around the glass he kept using, his hand feeling numb in that same curved position as he took on this becoming natural form. Ever so often he would lift the glass and take a heavy swig before setting it back down. It was gentle at first, he was on the surface of the abyss but as the afternoon hours bled into evening ones he found himself in a slow descent into bittersweet memories. He could see it so clearly as the alcohol began to poison him. When the bartender attempted to get him to stop he lost instantly. 

Keith came off as practically feral, a growl nearly escaping him as his eyes settled on the seemingly new bar help. That was all the bartender needed to know to just back off and allow the drunken customer to just keep going. No one would be able to cap this recluse off. 

The memories were fond ones that he got lost in. He recalled sitting in the stands on game nights during high school, the fluorescent lights cascading down onto the lush green field. The ever mighty Lions were claiming the field as they always did, and Takashi Shirogane was shining as the leader per the usual. He would pitch the ball to Hunk who would then pass it off to Lance and it would end in a touchdown. Keith recalled every single game, every time their eyes met, his and the captain’s own. No words were ever even necessary when it came to them, just stares and mutual understanding. 

Games bled into outings, simple but pleasurable. He remembered just how perfectly he seemed to settle in beside Shiro at one of their usual eating spots. Shiro would drape his arm around, blushing like a fool and Keith would laugh at how nervous the other came off sometimes. But it was them, in public they came off like this, the confident football captain was actually shy with his boyfriend, and the quiet artist was actually quite the confident one. But in bed? Oh god in bed it was a whole new experience, Shiro shined like the stars that dotted the night skies and Keith would wind up lost in him. Every kiss, every touch left the artist speechless and needing more, and eventually, he would break his silence to call for the other. 

Keith was so lost in his time at the bar with a drink in hand that he didn’t notice his long lost dream entering the establishment until Takashi Shirogane himself was seated on the corner right near the drunken recluse. 

“-eith?”  
He was smiling, the artist had his chin in his hand, looking elsewhere and he was smiling to himself, eyes blinking slowly as that one night they danced alone in Keith’s shack of a home came to mind. The music blared much like it did at the bar now and they may have had a few drinks then, just enough to be a little tipsy but the perfect amount to let loose and have fun in each other’s company. 

It was a hand that went over his glass when he went to take the next drink that made him look away from such a memory and instead to the person that those memories centered around. 

“Keith?” Shiro was looking at the drunk with the deepest possible concern imaginable, but his gaze was equally sad. A small, more coherent part of Keith wondered if the other came to this place just to get lost too. 

“Mm…” Keith settled back in his seat and looked to Shiro’s hand, it looked foreign, the dim lights of the bar were playing off the metal hand of the veteran but then the alcohol kicked in and now he could have sworn all he saw was skin. “Glad you could make it…” He lifted his dark indigo hues towards Shiro. 

The football captain seemed confused at the response he got. It was new, the recluse wasn’t snapping at him. 

“Uh… yeah.” He slid his hand off the other’s drink and gestured to the bartender for his own order of rum. 

Keith watched every movement of Shiro as if mesmerized by him. His eyes glazing over more and before he knew it a tear was escaping. 

“Y-You’re drunk?” Shiro paused to reach for his own glass, freshly delivered. 

“No… I just… really missed you, Shiro.” 

The captain’s eyes changed again at that, seeming to widen before he quickly moved to toss his own glass back. The sudden urge to get drunk was contagious. 

“...So we do know each other.” The veteran mused aloud, quickly ordering a top off for his drink. 

Keith let out a chortle to that and looked away briefly before then looking back, tilting his head at the other. “Of course we do, why wouldn’t we?” It was his turn to reach a hand out to touch at Shiro’s arm. 

The veteran jolted slightly and looked hard at Keith. But he broke instantly at the expression on the recluse’s face. It was gentle, his eyes soft, twinkling slightly as he looked right at Shiro unlike anyone else had in such a long time. Keith’s hand didn’t retreat either, instead, it rubbed lightly, up and down his forearm. 

“You seem stressed, Shiro… take it easy.” He patted his arm and then slowly pulled back but Shiro followed after him, taking his hand gently. 

“Please Keith… you’ve gotta tell me… you’re the only one right now who can give me any answers. Why… why don’t I--” 

“Takashi…” Keith sighed his name and Shiro shuddered at how gently he said it. “Relax, just take it easy.” He looked down to the other’s hand and slowly moved to intertwine their fingers together. “I’ve got you… and you’ve got me.” His gaze was distanced again. 

Shiro stared at him, his heart aching but he willingly squeezed the other’s hand back, gently, with the prosthetic, it was the most gentle he had been with it since receiving such a burden. 

The artist smiled at the return of his own affection before gesturing for the bartender to top Shiro’s drink off again. They’d get lost together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell you how it felt like a relief to write the last bit of this chapter just because they're together. But this is in no means a resolution but it's a step forward for the plot. Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Thank you!


	6. Treasure Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm fueled by season 6 hence why another chapter is happening way sooner than anyone expected!

While Keith’s day started off with a bottle of beer, Shiro’s own started with a guest. 

“Katie?” Shiro stood in the front doorway of his home, a freshly poured cup of coffee in his left hand whilst his right gripped at the door framing. He had only officially awoken a half hour ago and it was nearly ten in the morning. But he had slept so well and dreamed a wonderful dream, the only problem was he couldn’t remember it for the life of him. But that was a matter for later, he focused himself solely on the visitor in front of him. 

“You’re honestly the only one who still calls me that, to everyone else, it’s just Pidge.” She adjusted her round-framed glasses, amber hues looking up to the veteran without fear. She remained the shortest of their crew from back in school but she was one of the brightest, she had news headlines about her all over the world. Her hair was still cut short in honor of her brother Matt, who, along with Shiro, went on to become a soldier. He was still over there in war-torn areas, and every time Shiro looked at her he missed Matt even more. She always sported a simple outfit and if anything the world swore she was a guy. And she was so comfortable with it, she enjoyed her life of a mixed gender feel and Shiro felt like some proud older brother himself as he watched her take over the world. 

“Ah yeah sorry…. Force of habit I guess.” Shiro rubbed the back of his neck and gave a small awkward smile. He had known the Holt family since he was young, they were a constant presence in his grandparents household. He and Matt grew up together with a lot of the same passions, the military was a huge deal in their own respective families. 

Pidge smiled at him before holding up the sleek silver suitcase she held at her side. “Can I come in? I’m here visiting mom and dad but I wanted to stop by and do a diagnostic on your arm, just to make sure everything is going okay.” 

The veteran’s face crumpled for a moment as he glanced to the said prosthetic before giving a hesitant nod and stepping aside to let the mastermind in. He closed the door behind her once she was in and then proceeded to follow after her, she seemed more familiar with the place than the ex-soldier did. She headed straight for the dining area, pausing however when she walked in and saw none other than Kuron seated on the table. 

“Kuron… Hey, come on buddy off the table!” Shiro rounded Katie in a gentle fashion, being sure not to bump her as he approached the law-breaking feline. He reached for the cat but Kuron suddenly hissed and hoped off, disappearing down the hall and up the stairs. “Kuron…?” He stared off after the one-eyed cat for a moment before looking at Katie. “Sorry about that… he’s usually pretty friendly with me.” He offered an apology for his housemate. 

“It’s okay. I’m glad to see you’re not here alone at least.” She approached the table and gently placed the suitcase down. “Go ahead and take a seat so I can get you connected.” She pulled out a card key from the depths of her pant pockets and swiped it along the seal of the case, there was a clicking noise as the lock popped and she moved to push the lid open, a computer screen installed on the top half of the case with the bottom half consisting of a keyboard and several heavy duty wires. 

Shiro swallowed hesitantly before he moved to do as the other requested, setting himself down in his white t-shirt and black shorts with orange trim. He felt like a walking Syfy character in a moment like this, the fancy computer, the world-renowned technician, his cybernetic prosthetic, and it was then that he felt so alienated in his life. 

Pidge mentally took a note to the other’s sudden weariness, pausing as she went to grasp at wires. She laid them back down and looked at him properly, she was the one who had been there since the incident that sent him home, he remembered coming to and she was there, checking on him and even introducing him to the proposed plan of a nerve reacting prosthetic forged by a unique element known as scaultrite. She had assured him that it wouldn’t cause him any harm, the element was a fully natural, lightweight metal-like substance that adhered to movement easily, it could be bent billions of times but still retain its strength. And now here he was, his right arm made up of such an invention with wires running throughout. The initial surgery to even attach it took hours, each nerve having to be carefully connected to their own wire to ensure that whatever Shiro needed to do with his hand could be done, right down to the subtle bending of his pinky finger. 

He owed her so much for at least giving him some form of freedom back, even though it wasn’t real skin or blood pulsing through, it was good enough to be able to grab things properly and to write and to just look more whole than he had been. 

“Shiro,” Katie pulled him from his wandering thoughts. “It’s okay. I won’t be long with it and there shouldn’t be any pain. But I have to do this if I want to get more funding… they’re already talking about maybe introducing this as a public released prosthetic to the world… We could be helping a lot of other people.” Her voice was suddenly soft as she spoke about it, and from the look in her eyes, he knew what she was trying to do. 

“I know… and that’s amazing.” He moved to lay his right arm out on the table for her. “I’d do anything to help you out with that Katie, it’s really incredible… I owe you big time.” He offered a small smile to her, letting himself be distracted by the fact he could change the world as she moved to start plugging wires into his arm, like a phone charging cord to its port, except they were far larger and glowing a faint purple color. He looked down at it and tried to forget that nagging voice in the back of his head, ashaming him to look like this. 

Pidge turned her attention to her computer, her fingertips flying across the keyboard before she lifted one hand to poke at the screen, fingers swiping left and right through windows that popped up. He watched her with slightly widened eyes, unsure as to what she was looking at but equally impressed with her concentration and speed. 

“I’m gonna run an update while I’m here… it seems you’ve had a little trouble with the pollex right?” Her glasses had a glare on them from the screen and the veteran looked at her in absolute confusion as to what she was even talking about. She paused and glanced to him. “Your thumb.” She elaborated. 

“Oh… uh yeah… sometimes it doesn’t bend all the way.” He gave a slight nod to her in agreement to the ongoing issue, he had noticed it only a handful of times but it was there an error. Another flaw… 

“You’ve been stressed.” She suddenly spoke up again a moment later, continuing to type into her computer. 

Shiro blinked several times at her before furrowing his brows. “I’ve been fine?” 

“Data says otherwise.” She turned her screen towards him. “Your prosthetic is connected to your radial nerves, that all connect back to the brain, you’ve had a lot on your mind.” She tapped the screen, zooming in on some sort of chart that showed what he could only guess were his own brain waves. The line on the chart seemed to run rather high in certain parts, going into some sort of red zone before it would eventually dip back down. She turned the screen back to herself after a moment. “I’m seeing on the first day back here you nearly went into a panic like state.” Her lips curved downwards. “It fluctuated later on too…. And throughout the days following, but last night…” She squinted suddenly. “... It looks like you actually rested.” She glanced to him. “Is that correct?” 

“I… I did sleep pretty well last night.” He admitted with a slight stutter. 

“Yeah, I can see that your endorphin levels went up… like you were really happy.” She clicked on that particular spot on the chart. “You must have hit REM sleep then. But still all those other days…” She slowly looked back to him. “What’s been going on? You’ve been taking your prescriptions right?” She was alluding to the ones he was prescribed to help cope with his PTSD along with other mentality things. 

“Yeah… I have, every day like the bottles say. Even Kuron alerts me when it’s time to take them…” He admitted. 

“Have they helped you any? I know for some people they may not be exactly the solution they’re hoping for.” She typed a few more things in after a moment before again drawing her eyes back to him. 

“They have a little…” Shiro’s hand twitched, suddenly it didn’t feel like it belonged to his body but he didn’t panic, concluding it was the upgrade being installed. 

“Have you been settling in okay? I know Lance said you guys hung out, you had dinner with him and Allura?” She tilted her head at him. 

“Yeah… I met up with Hunk too… when I first got back.” He recalled their brief reunion back at the corner store. 

“Did everything go okay with them?” She was still keeping an eye focused on her computer as she continued her questions with him. 

“Yeah…” He looked down at the table. His arm momentarily felt numb before he spoke again a few short seconds later. “I ran into Keith a few times as well…” 

Her typing stopped, she froze her fingertips just above the keys, eyes on her screen before she pulled back her hands and turned her head and body to look at the veteran properly. 

“Keith?” She spoke the name carefully and watched Shiro closely for his reaction. 

“Yeah… Did you know him in school too?” Shiro looked to her, his eyes sad, the line on the chart slowly started to climb. 

“Only a little. He was as quiet then as he probably is now.” She kept a rather straight face with him as she tilted her head. “Shiro… as a friend whose concerned for your health, I don’t think you should be getting too caught up with someone like that. It’s obvious he’s affecting you…” She said it plain and simple, ripping the band-aid off. 

The veteran looked only further confused. “I hardly know him now? How can you say that?” 

“Because again, the data shows Shiro.” She turned the screen to him again, he was steadily climbing up into the red zone. “I can’t say I understand why you’re desperate to know him but I think you should stop before you wind up damaging yourself.” She hated to be this way, a total liar to her friend, someone she considered almost a brother to herself. But she swore an oath not too long ago that she would do this. 

“But I hardly see the reason… He isn’t a bad person or anything he’s just…” Shiro looked to the painting on the wall, eyes fixated on the obliterating planet. 

Katie surveyed him at that, briefly following his gaze before glancing at her computer. He was stabilizing but his brain was far from being inactive with thoughts. 

“He’s hurting…” He sighed softly and tilted his head before looking back to Pidge. “He’s hurting Katie, somebody has to do something for him before he ends up--” 

A beep came from the computer, cutting through their conversation awkwardly. She reached for the cords. “Update is done…” She mumbled the announcement, now avoiding his gaze but he trained himself on her like a hawk. She sighed heavily after a few moments and faced him once more. “Shiro, I just want you to be careful. You’re fragile right now too and I don’t want you to wind up getting hurt by the town recluse of all people. Just… try to back off a little.” She moved to stand and start packing everything up. “I should get going. I told mom and dad I’d visit for brunch.” She locked the case back up before sliding it off the table. 

Shiro was grinding his teeth together behind closed lips, his eyes hard, his newly updated hand now resting in a fist on the wooden surface. “He’s not a bad person.” He mumbled and looked down. “He’s…” 

“That’s enough.” She turned away from him to hide her own sadness. She felt now this little game of hide and seek was going too far. “I’m not saying to obey what I told you but… at least think before you act.” She moved to leave the dining room. “I’ll come back before I leave in a week just to make sure the upgrade is alright.” 

Shiro forced himself to follow her despite suddenly feeling… anger? He moved to open the front door for her, though stiff as he did so. 

She stepped out onto the porch, feeling that the air shared between them was much thicker than ever before. “I’m sorry, Shiro.” 

“Yeah… Me too.” He was quick to shut the door on her. 

She sighed and turned to leave at that, pulling out her phone and dialing out. She didn’t have to wait for the third ring when someone finally answered. “Hey… Yeah…” She turned back to look at the elaborate house she had just been in. “I don’t think I can keep doing this anymore either…” 

Shiro dragged himself up the mountain of stairs to the second floor, swinging himself to the left once he reached the top and heading straight for the master bedroom. The french doors were cracked open most likely from Kuron moving to hide up here. The veteran didn’t bother in seeking out the feline, instead peeling off his shirt and his shorts, stripping down to nothing as he padded towards the master bath. He looked in the mirror, staring at his scarred body, looking at the ugly, angry marks of where prosthetic met flesh. He hung his head for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts but he was still angry. How could everyone so easily brush off someone like that? Did no one else see Keith like Shiro had? Their interactions had only ever been brief up to now but he knew Keith was hurting, much like the veteran was. But there felt to be so much more to this story, to this mystery of a beautifully broken recluse, and no one seemed to be at liberty to really tell him about it. 

He turned to the shower and quickly switched it on, letting the water heat up to a scalding temperature before he got in for the punishment. But it numbed him momentarily as he let the water pour down on him like a hot summer thunderstorm. He closed his eyes but only came to regret it when his fears tore into him. The water felt more like ashes falling onto him, the tile of the shower walls caved into that of the ruins of a bomb struck town. He could hear the crackling of fires that still hadn’t been properly extinguished yet. He saw blood, whose it was he couldn’t tell.

He screamed, his jaw opening as he quickly fumbled to switch the shower off, eyes snapping open as he braced his arms against the nearest wall. He gasped, inhaling and exhaling quickly as he slowly climbed back to reality. His pupils were dilated, searching the wet floor for any signs that he might still actually be in a war rather than his own home. When he found no such evidence did he quickly choose to leave the shower and get dressed to distract himself. 

That distraction bled into another, moving to make the bed, moving to clean the bathroom. He drifted from room to room with a duster, trying to mellow himself out. But such mundane things could only go so far. Before he knew it, it was nearly five in the evening, the sun starting to set. He needed to get out of this house before those unforgiving shadows paid him a visit. He fled on foot down the street. 

It was a short time after his departure when he wound up outside of none other than Vrepit Sal’s Bar. He looked up at the buzzing neon sign, a violent red that began to hurt his eyes after a few minutes at staring at it. His gaze fell to the open door of the pub, and he weighed his options. Should he continue his late evening jaunt around town to escape the night terrors? Or should he wander into the bar and perhaps indulge himself in some sort of refreshment? 

The need to sit outweighed anything else and so he marched forward, walking into the bar only to stop dead at the sight. 

There he was in all his glory, Keith, the supposed town recluse was seated at the far end of the bar, a drink in hand and a smile on his face, but he seemed to have no company. Shiro studied the other for a moment, a part of him maybe hoping to understand why his friends seemed so wary of Keith. But no such information was provided. Seeing him sit there like that, left Shiro feeling almost warm and fuzzy, Keith’s smile was something beautiful, he looked content just sitting there. 

The veteran dared to approach now, making his way across the old rickety wood floor of the place. It wasn’t quite packed but quite a few people were lingering around, but they seemed more indulged with their own lives to even bother to care about anyone else's that passed by. 

It was when Shiro drew closer that he noticed how glazed over Keith’s eyes looked. He tried to gage him. He just wanted to talk and hopefully, he was catching the other in a good mood. 

“Keith?” 

He got no reaction at first, the artist seemingly still lost in whatever thoughts he was having. He moved to lift his glass to his lips. But Shiro moved first, reaching across the bar as he slid into his seat, his bionic hand settling atop the other’s glass and weighing it down. Violet hues were now on him and they were beautiful. 

“Keith?” He was a bit concerned now with how spacey the other seemed. He furrowed his brows together, trying to figure out what really was going on through Keith’s head in this moment. He finally received an answer as Keith eyed him back. 

It was some sort of mumbled groan at first, Keith’s eyes falling to the veteran’s prosthetic before trailing up the glinting metal to Shiro’s face. “Glad you could make it.” 

Shiro inwardly swallowed at the pair of eyes locking on his, dark lashes created a shadow that seemed to give Keith’s eyes an even darker shade of purple and it was charming with the subtle dim glow of the bar lights. He needed to distract himself so he slid his hand away and decided to order himself a drink. 

As Shiro gestured and made his order to the bartender he could feel Keith’s gaze on him, it was heavy and left Shiro’s heart thudding in his chest only to damn near break when he looked back to Keith to find the other nearly crying. Things clicked into place, the tear, the smile, the laid-back attitude, the drink that didn’t seem to leave the recluse’s hand. “Y-You’re drunk?” He had his left hand halfway extended to pick up the deposited glass of scotch from the counter. He wasn’t expecting the next response at all. 

“No… I just… Really missed you, Shiro.” 

Did he hear that right? He tossed his glass back, letting the alcohol soil his throat as he replayed those words in his head. He kept it on repeat as he slowly sat his glass back down, trying to get his thoughts straight before the poison would take effect. He raised his hand to summon another glass but did not look at Keith when he spoke again, wanting to solidify his conclusion in all this. 

“So we do know each other…?” He watched as his glass was filled again, he listened to Keith’s adorable little chuckle, unsure as to what it meant before the artist spoke again. 

“Of course we do, why wouldn’t we?” 

Shiro could feel the other touching his cybernetic arm, he felt a chill up his spine. It was a new sensation, one he hadn’t had the pleasure of experiencing yet. And at that moment it was killing him as he looked back to Keith who seemed to look at the veteran like he was his whole world. His eyes blinked slowly at Shiro, his hand not retreating but instead giving him a comforting rub up and down the sleek metal. 

“You seem stressed, Shiro… take it easy.” He felt the other pat his arm before beginning to retreat his hand away. Shiro missed the touch and moved without proper thinking. 

He seized Keith’s hand gently in the grasp of his robotic fingers, holding him there carefully. Keith didn’t remotely seem shocked or scared, instead keeping his calm, collective nature as he looked at the veteran. “Takashi…” Shiro hadn’t heard someone call him by his first name in a while. Keith sighed it so perfectly, like the soothing note played on a violin. He allowed Keith to slowly push his hand open and then interlock their fingers together. “I’ve got you… and you’ve got me.” The artist assured him, but Shiro was trying to remind himself that the other was drunk. 

But despite all that he just couldn’t shake the warm feeling in his chest, how natural this all felt. He allowed himself to give the other’s hand a gentle squeeze, a miracle in itself to be so careful with the other. 

The smile he received in return was more than enough as a gift from the other. Keith beckoned for more booze to get wasted on. Shiro ultimately didn’t care, because in that moment with Keith, he knew he had found his refuge for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated! Thank you for your support!


	7. Call to Mind: Genesis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This is a flashback chapter for Shiro and Keith along with some of the gang, this is also the longest chapter so far! I hope you enjoy it! I have also set up a [Kofi](https://ko-fi.com/W7W4FQYN) ! Any support is welcomed and appreciated. Additionally, if you make any fanart for this I'd love to know, I also may be doing some doodles now that I have a drawing tablet. Anyway, onward with the chapter!

Perihelion and Aphelion. 

Keith blatantly ignored the teacher’s explanation of such terminology in regards to the solar system. He was preoccupying himself with sketches that created a messy frame around his nearly blank page of notes for Astrophysics I. 

It wasn’t that he hated the class but it was the fact he had been partially raised on these types of studies before. His late father saw to that sort of thing, sure while Keith could name you a constellation he failed when it came to so many other things in life. It was in no way a complaint though and he wasn't stupid. He maintained his grades at an acceptable level, high B’s to low A’s. He wasn’t perfect but he was no failure either. The looming shadow of his uncle, Kolivan, ensured that much.

But the real inquiry remained here. Why take a class he already knew plenty about? Sure there was the school requirement to at least take one science class per grade year. And yes this could turn into an easy A for him but that wasn’t it. That was so far from it. 

But what wasn’t far was the ever brilliant sun that shines in his life. Keith was experiencing perihelion every day so far in this class and it couldn’t make him more jovial if he tried. 

One row up and three desks over sat the guardian of the freshman, a friend to all, a stranger to none. His body broad, hair a black color like Keith’s own but it was cut short and close save for the little bit of a bang that fell into the way of his forehead. His grey eyes twinkled in wonderment of the lesson but they eventually drifted back to Keith. 

He couldn’t look away. How could anybody? Takashi Shirogane was all sorts of beautiful, brainy and bold, perfectly sculpted and placed here in the midst of an idiotic space lesson. But for Keith, he couldn’t be more thrilled about it. He smiled back at his sun. 

Perihelion was where he always wanted to be. 

“You seemed distracted in class back there.” They walked side by side in the bustling halls of the Wimbledon High School, home of the Lions. Keith rolled his eyes jokingly and glanced back up at Shiro. 

“So did you. You looked a little lost.” He smirked almost confidently up at his friend. 

That was what they were. A perfect duo of overwhelming friendship and brotherhood. Or well, that's what they had come to believe in the near eight years they’d known each other. But high school was so incredibly different compared to the settings of a place like elementary school where the hardest life got was maybe you didn’t finish that really awesome picture made out of so many art media you couldn’t count them all. Middle school was a little more of a hurdle. No one tells you but it can be tough, but you wind up learning who the real friends are. High school though, high school was a place that tries to churn you up, sever any relationship it thought you had, it is honestly a make or break four years. But Keith was holding on just fine. Then again they had only just started classes a few weeks ago, summer was just starting to finally break into autumn. 

“Not lost but a little bored. You talked about all that stuff years ago if anything it was a flashback moment rather than a learning one.” Shiro admitted and then snickered. “Why are we taking that class again?” 

“Because despite knowing all there is to know about space. We wanted to hear it all again and look back on our lives like a couple of old men.” Keith gave him a straight face. 

“Gees, Keith that’s dark, we’re only freshmen, not seniors.” Shiro blinked almost innocently at him. 

They burst out into laughter not even a second later. And God how they loved to hear each other laugh. 

“Wait what the hell is Perihellion?” Lance flicked his wrist and pointed a fork towards Keith, splattering a bit of ranch dressing on the other’s face. 

Keith was visibly annoyed as he wiped at his face with a napkin, his seat slightly diagonal from the attacker. 

A hand reached out and gently lowered Lance’s wrist back down as Shiro slid into his spot at the table, right beside Lance and directly across from Keith. “Lance you know you’re not making a good impression when you do stuff like that.” He glanced to the other with a smile. 

“Yeah especially when he’s trying to reel in the mayor’s daughter!” Katie slid in beside Lance, her hair long and her body clad in a simple green dress that went to her knees. 

“I-- H-Hey!” Lance looked towards the female who joined them, blushing faintly before looking away. “I’m not she’s just--” 

“They really need to spice up the menu. Like, come on meatloaf again? It’s Thursday, we just had this on Monday!” Hunk whined as he took a seat beside Keith only to glance to his tray. “Wait… they had the roast beef and gravy lunch today too?!” He stared down at Keith’s plate. 

“Uh yeah…” Keith paused in his partaking of lunch again to look to Hunk. “It was kinda limited though. They didn’t make a lot of it.” 

“Oh man!” He looked back to Katie. “I knew we should have tried to leave class earlier! We could have kept working on the project after school I’m sure Professor Montgomery wouldn’t have minded.” Hunk pouted. “Another food opportunity missed.” 

“Hunk we have so much left to do before the science fair.” Katie pointed out simply before moving to peck at her own salad. 

“Isn’t that in the spring though? We just started classes last month?” Keith looked outright confused. 

“Yeah, but we have a lot of work to do if we want to finish our entry by then. We’re working on a new alternative to clean energy.” She moved to flip open a small notebook that rested beside her tray of food, surely the book to all her ingenious secrets. 

“Hey, Katie where’s Matt?” Shiro spoke up, tilting back to properly view her while Lance sat between them, having a midlife crisis over perhaps the prettiest girl in school, Allura. 

“He’s in a meeting with the guidance counselor in regards to his school pathway…” The genius replied and continued with her note skimming. 

“Ah that’s right, I need to schedule when to meet with them too…” Shiro moved to start cutting into his tray of meatloaf. 

Keith took pause to that, brows furrowing as he looked to Shiro. “Wait… are you changing classes or something?”

Shiro looked across the table to him before smiling. “No, I don’t think it’s going to require all that, I already chose a pathway that should help, but I still need to talk to the counselor about enlisting after I finish high school.” His smile was gentle. Keith knew the military was a passion to Shiro and he wanted to support the other one hundred percent, but sometimes it still ate at him, it sank it’s claws in slowly, a painful reminder that one day, this might all just… 

“Right.” He bit down onto the fork with his food on it and looked elsewhere. 

The leader didn’t miss the signal though, he watched as Keith’s mind started to turn. The cogs in the art student’s head would start grinding together, he was a future planner. Shiro knew that he had learned it over the past eight years of knowing Keith, but the thing about Keith’s future planning was that it always revolved around the worst possible outcomes. And that was where he fell into the other, a future planner himself, Shiro knew how to see the brighter side of things. They were such opposites but they shared similarities just the same. 

“Hey.” He knocked his fork against Keith’s tray to get his attention. “We should hang out this weekend… we haven’t done that in a while.” He smiled at the artist gently. 

Keith looked upon him in slight confusion, the cogs reworking and rerouting to find a possible answer. Shiro’s smile was soothing to look at, his eyes soft and gentle and sweet and Keith found himself relaxing at them. “Uh… Yeah, that would be nice…” He sat back, abandoning his food. “But what the Hell would we do?” 

“Dunno.” Shiro shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe we could--” 

“A-Allura!” Lance suddenly stood up as he spotted the silver-haired dark skinned beauty that made her way past the table. She turned in surprise at her name being called. 

“Lance?” Her accent was always a bit surprising when it came out, some sort of European sound but it was as peaceful as a song when she spoke. Her eyes were a vision of pastels, unlike the world had ever seen. Lance found himself getting lost in her no matter what she did. 

“Uh… Hey, there pretty lady!” He tried to bring his confidence out as he got up and moved over to her, striking up a conversation. It was something along the lines of football and asking about the cheer routine Allura and her team were developing for the upcoming game. 

“He’s doing well,” Shiro commented with a head tilt as he watched the pair talk. 

Keith was in his own world though, gazing at Shiro and wondering what they could get lost doing this weekend.

Thursday turned into a day of admiration for Keith. Football practice was typically held every Thursday evening for the team and Keith honestly had nowhere else to be. He had no one to really go home too, while Kolivan was his guardian in place he didn’t force Keith to move in with him or anything of the sort. He allowed his nephew to keep where he was. The artist was grateful for that much. 

He found his admiration, and his muse, in the star quarterback who jogged up the field towards a few other players. Shiro held his helmet beneath the crook of his arm, smiling in greeting at his fellow teammates. 

Keith was quick at that moment to break out his sketchbook and start drawing him out, every muscle was carefully carved into the paper by lead, every detail was accented perfectly and by the time he was done it looked almost like a real person, Shiro’s twin was born on the page. He looked up when he was done, his view from the bleachers giving him a large enough view of the entire field. The team was running some playthroughs now. The artist looked on and tried to let himself get drawn into the plays but his eyes kept falling back to the quarterback he told himself he was here to support. 

Keith was always sure that he liked Shiro as his brother, someone who stepped into his life at an ultimate low point and saw nothing but the best in him. He owed the other so much but always found it near impossible to repay as Shiro just kept saving him, guiding him, building him into who he was today. His heart twinged though, feelings slowly shifting into something he wasn’t quite familiar with. All he knew was that lately, he just wanted to be as close to Shiro as much as he could. He didn’t want to drift too far off from him. He enjoyed their time together, even in silence at the school library it was nice to have someone to share the quiet with. Keith hadn’t known loneliness is eight years. He didn’t want to give that up any time soon. 

For Shiro, Friday was a day of longing. He became distracted by Keith when he came to drop off some documents to the art instructor from another class. Even when he should have been walking out the door he remained rooted, watching as Keith gently brought brush to canvas and painted his own rendition of the flower vase in the center of the room. The boy held such concentration, his gaze intense as he guided the colors along. Shiro longed to know what he felt when he painted or sculpted, he wanted to know what made the other tick so perfectly that by the time Keith was done with a sketch he had to do a double take cause he swore Keith just created something that should be physically tangible in this world. Unfortunately, he was forcibly booted from the studio and unable to watch Keith finish. 

But they fell back into one another, Keith like the moon to the Earth, in constant orbit as it waxed and waned. He was never far, hiding in the light but coming out in the darkness. That was how Shiro had found him. Elementary school felt so distant now like it was near centuries ago but it wasn’t. He remembered the late autumn in second grade, the chill in the air as he walked to school, gripping at his backpack straps as his grandparents waved him goodbye. He was insistent on always walking on his own, he felt that it made him stronger. 

It was in this late autumn that he came to properly acknowledge Keith. But it took the other to be absent for a week before Shiro even took notice to him. The teacher had called his name once and Shiro glanced around, practically clueless to who she was calling before he then spotted the empty desk at the back left corner of the class. It looked cold there, colder than any approaching winter he had ever felt. When the missing student suddenly appeared the following week, Shiro was put in charge of helping him with the work he missed. At the beginning of the school year, they held a childish election to select a class representative, someone to be the guide and voice for the whole class and to also be the teacher’s helper when she needed it. He wasn’t sure on if Keith had voted for him or not, but it didn’t matter. 

He remembered approaching the lonely desk in the back carefully and pulling up a chair during the quiet reading hour they were given daily. Keith, at that moment, didn’t properly register Shiro until the other slid some work papers his way. It was then did the far quieter student glance at him, eyes dark, bags forming beneath them like the entire world was weighing him down. But Shiro’s knowledge on the other only stemmed so far, and he had honestly assumed that the other was out due to illness and that was why even now he still looked rough around the edges. 

This was where the mistake was made but also where Keith’s walls slowly began to crack. 

“I hope you feel better soon… you still look a little sick, are you sure you shouldn’t be home resting more?” He remembered saying those words to the classmate he thought was ill. 

The tiredness in Keith’s eyes instantly turned to fury as he glared at Shiro. “Feel better soon? Sick? Home?!” He stood from his chair and despite being just a small second grader his aura alone felt suffocating. Shiro remembered the waves of anguish rolling off the other and crashing into him, Keith was the tsunami, Shiro was the beautiful beach destined to finally be wrecked after a time of serenity. “You don’t know anything!” The papers that had been placed down were suddenly shoved at him, flying into the air as Keith quickly dashed out of the classroom. The teacher had stood but Shiro was quick to get up himself and rush over to her. 

“Please… just, just let me talk to him.” He wasn’t angered or upset with Keith, he was more drawn to him, wanting to understand what had caused him to act that way, and to flee with such a heavy gaze of sadness. He earned an apology from the teacher who quickly explained what had actually happened and then handed him a hall pass, asking that he try to get the other back while she manned the class that now had all eyes on them. 

He didn’t hesitate to follow, searching the halls and checking every bathroom until he finally found Keith wiping hard at his face and sniffling, his head bowed as he stood in front of the line of sinks. It was the hardest thing to look at, someone so burdened with melancholy that they looked to nearly be drowning in their own tears. 

He recalled how cautiously he approached Keith, treating him as he truly was right now, something fragile. His hand slowly extended, still unnoticed by the seemingly shorter student. He gently placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder which was quick to jar him from his onslaught of waterworks. 

He met the true Keith then, wide indigo eyes that were glossed over and shimmering in the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom looked upon him. Under his palm, Shiro could feel the other shaking, a subtle tremble but it was there. He found himself instantly wanting to cry with the other, an instant empathetic connection. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Those words were enough, enough to have Keith suddenly embrace him and Shiro returning the embrace. Keith’s father had died just last week and here Shiro had gone and thought the other was simply out ill and battling the infamous virus that drifted around the halls this time of year. But it was so much more than that, and he would soon come to learn how much more it was. 

It was from that day did he slowly become Keith’s closest friend, an ally and a guide to the other. Keith tended to resort to violence when it came to other people picking on him, but it was only because he hadn’t properly been shown on how to deal with his anger. So Shiro fell into him and showed him the way ever so slowly over the following eight years. 

And now here they were, standing outside of the local convenience store on a Saturday evening, Shiro clad in his rugged looking leather jacket of a dark brown nearly black shade, comfortable in his jeans and black undershirt. He smiled happily at Keith who had made his appearance, hiking up the sidewalk and stopping directly in front of his friend. 

Keith was equally comfortable in a faded red jacket with white accents, tight black jeans hugging his lower half with a grey shirt just barely visible beneath his hoodie like jacket. “Hey…” 

“Hey there.” Shiro quickly surveyed the other and raised a brow. “You okay? You look a little…” He gestured to his own eyes, signaling at the dark circles that were beneath Keith’s. 

“Yeah no, I’m good just… got really into this painting at home last night.” The artist rubbed at his face some to wake himself up before then dropping his hands back into the pockets of his jacket. “I’m a night owl anyway so it’s good. What are we doing again?” He glanced around at the town around them, the Saturday nightlife slowly coming around as they stood there together. 

“Well, I was thinking about grabbing a sub. Hunk’s mom makes some of the best.” Shiro jerked a thumb to the store beside them. “Then I was thinking… maybe the arcade?” He offered a playful grin to the other only to deflate at Keith’s unimpressed expression. 

“The arcade... Really?” He had a brow raised heavily in question to his companion but when Shiro’s expression didn’t seem to reveal he was joking, he caved with a heavy sigh. “Arcade it is then.” He then turned a boot-clad heel towards the convenience store, Shiro falling in line beside the other as they waltzed into the place together. 

They wound up splitting a sub as they always did whenever they came here, it was always such a huge amount of food that one order alone was perfect for just them, one half for each, it was that simple. 

But of course came the battle of who paid, Keith usually won out every time and left Shiro pouting at him but tonight Keith found himself on the losing end, starring in slight disbelief as Shiro handed over cash to cover the bill, his lips slightly parted like that of a fish. The quarterback was smiling as he made the payment exchange, happy to be treating Keith for once rather than the other way around, he looked to the other and briefly admired his rather adorable expression. 

Adorable…? 

Yes when he really thought about it, looking at Keith, the other really was… 

“Ugh, I’m stuffed!” Keith announced as he sunk back on the bench out in the night air, a fingerless glove-clad hand coming to rest on his stomach as he closed his eyes, trying to keep himself from going into a food coma. Shiro laughed breathlessly at the other’s actions before nodding and agreeing with a few simple words. The artist allowed his eyes to fall open an look over to Shiro, catching sight of that ever radiant smile on the other’s face. When he really thought about it he never wanted to see that smile go anywhere away from here. It was a smile he felt was only ever made for him. 

“Do I need to carry you to the arcade?” Shiro tossed the paper the sub had been wrapped in, away, into a nearby trashcan before directing his attention back to Keith who was slowly getting onto his feet. 

“I’m good, I’m good.” Keith waved off the offer with a hand, nonchalant as he moved to fall into step with Shiro again, heading for the old arcade down the road. 

It was completely retro, no new dance games in sight but plenty of skee ball and twentieth-century arcade games to cover the neon-lit place. Shiro walked in so casually, Keith feeling just a bit awkward as he wasn’t the type to find himself hanging out in a worn down place like this one. But Shiro didn’t let him fall behind, turning to him as they came to a stop in front of the row of skee ball lanes. The artist glanced to them before looking at Shiro. “Shame I don’t have any quarters guess we can’t play--” 

Shiro only grinned at that and suddenly whipped out a cloth pouch from the depths of one of his jacket pockets. “I’ve got that covered.” 

It was enough to raise a side smile from Keith before he shrugged. “Alright fine, I give let’s play.” He snatched the pouch from Shiro who blinked in surprise before nodding to that. 

“First to a hundred tickets gets the other guys tickets. Sound good?” Shiro slowly slid quarters into the slot as he glanced to Keith who was doing the same. 

“Of course, I’m looking forward to getting those cheap little art sets they have up there at the counter.” He smirked at the other as their lanes lit up and the balls came rolling down. Keith was quick to grab one and roll, instantly scoring a hundred to Shiro’s measly fifty points first roll. They kept going, nine balls dwindling down to the final rolls. They both went at the same time, Shiro cursing as he realized his mistake, only making ten points for himself while Keith claimed a hundred and fifty, his lane lighting up brighter to celebrate the high score. Tickets came rolling out of the machine, Keith was already well in the lead for their bet as he held them up in front of Shiro who seemed to pout. 

Keith was overly confident and Shiro honestly found it charming to see him that way despite his loss, but it wasn’t over yet. 

The battle for victory continued as they walked deeper into the arcade, next was some old army game and of course, Shiro was well invested. Keith held the toy gun awkwardly as he attempted to aim at the enemies that came up on screen but when something jumped up he panicked and Shiro was quick to take them out over Keith. And thus Shiro literally won that war, but it still wasn’t over yet as they drifted on to something more simple, like chasing a line of dots with some yellow circular character. Keith cursed when one of the colored ghosts nabbed him. 

Shiro placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled as he slid in to take his own turn, gliding the joystick and easily maneuvering, clearing out all the dots on the screen. 

The shorter male’s lips curved downwards slightly as he raised a brow, watching Shiro before glancing to another game right beside them, it was racing. He waited for Shiro to finish and boast about another victory before he grabbed the other by his forearm and pulled him over. “C’mon… race me.” Keith got comfortable in the hard plastic chair in front of him and started selecting his car after putting the coins in. 

Shiro humored him as he took his own seat and went about his selection. Keith forged a red colored vehicle while Shiro stuck with a classic black and then the countdown started. Keith gripped hard at the steering wheel while Shiro allowed himself to relax. It was something about all this, how silly it all was sure, but he couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else. He looked over to Keith who seemed to be having such a wonderful time, his foot pressing down on the accelerator as he sped off in their race. Shiro eased his foot on the gas, only briefly glancing to the screen as he did. He got so caught up in Keith’s happiness because it was all he honestly ever wanted for the other, ever since that day in second grade when the orphan sobbed into his arms he had made it a goal to one day make him the happiest he had ever been. He wasn’t really sure what it was that pulled him in, he didn’t pity Keith, he didn’t look down on him, not ever, he saw nothing but good-heartedness and so much potential, he just wanted to teach Keith and show him what it was he had seen all along in their time together. 

Keith won the bet, but Shiro took the loss happily as they approached the prize counter, Keith victoriously holding all one hundred and eighty-two tickets in his hand as he then placed them on the counter and started making his selection of knock-off prizes. When he was done did he turn to face Shiro and toss something his way, the quarterback momentarily snapping out of his own admiration to fumble with catching the mystery thrown his way. When he opened his hands he found a little army figurine lying in his palm, the soldier posed perfectly in a saluting position. 

“Oh….” He smiled warmly at it and looked to Keith, not realizing he was actually blushing faintly under the neon lighting. “Thanks.” He chuckled, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. 

“You at least deserved some sort of prize.” Keith walked over with a small paper bag full of the prizes he had selected. “You did whoop my ass at that gun game,” He mused aloud as they headed out, taking their time in heading for home. They fell into the natural route of walking to Shiro’s place as they always did whenever they could after school. 

When they both really thought about it they tried to spend a lot of time together, whether it be with their classes at school or their afternoon walks home together, sometimes they came off as inseparable, but yet they shared such differences. Takashi Shirogane the football quarterback, and Keith, the ever so talented artist. But that never mattered, in their differences did they find that they also shared so much in common. They both knew what loss was, both without parents to run home to, though of course, Shiro had his grandparents, he knew Keith was always walking home to no one. It irked him whenever the thought passed, whenever they got to the moment that they were… 

“Whelp, here we are,” Keith announced as he stopped outside of the white picket fence surrounding the prestige home that belonged to his well-cherished comrade. The lights were on, it was only a few minutes before ten at night, but Shiro found himself not actually wanting to be here just yet. He found himself unable to focus on the lavender colored door, instead looking at Keith who kept his eyes on the house, eyes twinkling slightly from the lights given off by the porch. It had been such a good night together, and Shiro found himself wondering if Keith really wanted to call it a night here? 

“I should get going. I’ll text you tomorrow.” Keith glanced to Shiro before turning to start his way down the sidewalk again, alone. 

Shiro didn’t let him slip away just yet though, seizing the other by his arm with a gentle grasp. Keith looked surprised, his head snapping back to look upon the other in shock, blinking a few times as he was gingerly pulled close, he duly noted that Shiro wasn’t letting his arm go just yet, honestly quite the opposite as the quarterback’s hand moved down to hold Keith’s own hand. 

“Shiro?” He called the other’s name in question, raising a brow. Words were not given in answer, instead, actions were taken, speaking so much louder than any vocabulary. 

The freshmen touched lips, Shiro planting a gentle kiss on the artist’s lips and holding for a few moments. Time slowed then, Keith was stiff only for a moment before calming, a part of him relishing in the fact that he had found what he had been feeling over the past few months for someone he thought was just like a brother to him. Shiro pulled away slowly, eyes fluttering back open to study Keith and gauge a reaction from him. 

“I uh… sorry um…” The athlete suddenly looked downright embarrassed as he pulled his hand away from Keith’s own and rubbed the back of his neck. “I just uh… Keith…” He was having a hard time with words. 

Keith stepped close though, coming as close to orbit to Shiro as humanly possible, grabbing the other just as gently as the quarterback had done only a few seconds earlier, he guided him back. Both of them nestled in perfect perihelion as they shared another kiss, easy and slow, comfortable but with a warm sensation fluttering over them. 

It was a perfect beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always kudos and comments are appreciated! Next chapter we will be returning to where we left off in the previous chapter.


	8. Our Emotional Execution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live! My deepest apologies for having not updated in over a month! Life crept up on me and tried to beat me down but here I am! 
> 
> PLEASE NOTE THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW! I bet you weren't expecting this warning so soon but here it is!

Keith’s laughter was swallowed whole by the overwhelming chatter of the bar. But Shiro didn’t fail to hear it, like a bell, a melodic sound that he honestly wanted to hear over and over again until he had gone deaf. 

Even Keith’s grin was something he wanted to see, needed to save like it was the only thing he had to get him through. And it was, but his drunken mind wasn’t essentially on that timeline of wounded war-vet battling PTSD right now. 

When he looked at Keith, whose hand was still lingering around the empty shot glass that was the notorious “Weblum Washdown”, he saw the old art student, clad in a faded red hoodie and black jeans, face young, not looking like he was burdened with the weight of the world. 

Alcohol was poisoning them both, like the sweetest aphrodisiac known to mankind. Keith’s other hand was still drifting up and down the robotic appendage that was Shiro’s right arm, and the damn jock could swear he felt himself igniting on fire at the touch. They were both gone, lost in each other. 

"Always a lightweight." The artist mused as he kept the smile, that beautiful, perfect upcurve of lips that Shiro just wanted to… 

"Am not," Shiro grumbled the response but he was smiling back none the less before he then abandoned his whiskey and reached for Keith's hand that just kept wandering. "Hey… Keith?" 

"Yessir?" Keith barked out laughter as Shiro's already drunken blush drew a deeper shade of red. "What is it, Shiro?" He corrected himself and leaned forward, granting more access into the other's personal space. Shiro didn't argue with it though, finding himself leaning in to meet the other in the middle. 

Air was shared and their eyes locked onto each other, homing in. “....Wanna get out of here?” Shiro posed the question with only a hint of sobriety in his brief hesitation. 

“I’d love to.” 

They wandered the dark sidewalks of town, Keith nearly stumbling into Shiro who was quick to catch him then link arms with the smaller male. This felt normal, this felt right, despite their wasted bodies and minds right now they felt genuinely content stumbling in the direction of Paladin Place. Shiro held Keith up with a strong arm that now slowly moved to wind around his waist. Keith’s laughter bubbled up again as he leaned into Shiro. 

“Always so big and strong.” He nudged into the larger man’s side and glanced up at him, cheeks blazing crimson from the buzzing of alcohol in his system. 

“You’re strong too ya know?” Shiro arched a brow at him and leaned down just as they reached the perfect white picket fence that surrounded the perfect home of Takashi Shirogane. Keith lingered in their close proximity, eyes blinking slowly up at the other only for them to then widen when he was swept off his feet by Shiro. 

“W-Whoa big man!” Keith shrieked and looked to Shiro in shock and surprise. Shiro only smirked at him and marched across the threshold of the lawn, carrying the other and snickering happily before Keith joined in on the chorus of laughter. 

Kuron scattered into the darkness of the living room as Shiro and Keith strolled in, the artist ever so clumsily placed back on his own two feet. He pulled Shiro by the arm as they wandered into the house. The only light being the one down the hall and coming from the kitchen. It created odd shadows on their faces as they lingered together in the foyer, the jock kicking the door closed with his foot but never once taking his eyes off Keith. 

They momentarily abandoned their smiles and laughter to stare at each other in quiet, their breaths being the only thing to disturb the silence they put themselves in. Keith’s fingers were still braced against Shiro’s arms and the veteran’s own hands were ever so lightly settled on the artist’s waist. 

Shiro broke their silent staring contest first, his voice coming out in a hushed whisper but Keith loved it. 

“Can I kiss you…?” 

“Of course you can.” Keith wasn’t hesitant in the least to reply to the other. “You always can, you know that Takashi.” His smile to the other was gentle. 

Shiro leaned down and in, Keith moving to meet him in the middle. Their lips brushed together at first, seeming like it was something foreign like they had forgotten how to do it after an eternity of not. Keith's lips parted slightly and Shiro took the opportunity to angle his head just right and fit his lips against the artist's own. The veteran felt a bit of pressure being added as Keith took a step closer. 

Their eyes fell closed, hands starting to ever so slowly roam. Shiro’s headed upwards, tracing up Keith’s hips and sides, stroking across the smaller’s chest and then cupping his face. 

Keith’s hands roamed along the other’s arms, smoothing up and then gently circling his arms around the broad neck and shoulders of the taller. 

They lingered in their close proximity of one another. The sun felt so brilliant that the burn left no pain, only pleasure for Keith that settled into his alcohol poisoned heart. 

Shiro’s mind was further wrecked when he broke the kiss after a moment, eyes falling open again as he pressed his forehead to Keith’s, watching as the other’s eyelids fluttered and then opened as well. His thumb stroked across Keith’s jawline affectionately, refusing to pull away. They were always like this behind closed doors, close and open, affectionate and showing it in every way imaginable. 

“Keith I…” 

“I missed you.” The artist whispered to him, seeming lost for a moment before he offered a smile and leaned into the strong hands that held his face. “I missed us…” He sighed as if in content. 

Shiro studied Keith, taking him in at close proximity. The shadows still played on their faces but somehow he could make out the brilliant violet that was the artist's half-opened eyes, his skin felt smooth under the touch and he could feel the bit of heat there too. He noted how perfectly Keith seemed to fit against him, and at such a note did it feel victorious, like when you finally found that puzzle piece you've been hunting for. It was in that victory did Shiro suddenly circle his arms around Keith and hoist the other up, causing Keith to fully wrap both arms around the veteran's neck. 

A smirk lingered on the artist’s lips as he stared back at Shiro. “We goin’ somewhere?” His voice momentarily slurred but he in no way seemed to protest his current predicament of having his arms and legs wrapped around the other like some monkey. 

“Up.” Shiro smiled back at him as he nodded his head to the stairs before steadily making his way towards them and climbing. Keith was no weight in his hands as he carried him, holding him securely and actually managing to walk up the stairs no problem in his drunken state. It was quite a miracle they didn’t go tumbling down the way they came as Shiro made it to the top, swinging a left and heading for the double doors that led to the bedroom. The windows allowed the moon and the stars to shine into the place, still giving them a perfect view of each other. Shiro navigated the hall while Keith navigated Shiro’s gaze, mapping out the stars in their grey depths. The artist wound up leaning back up to kiss at the veteran, as Shiro skillfully opened one of the doors with a hand whilst keeping hold of the beautiful burden against him. 

Keith was never that though, far from a burden but he was beautiful. Shiro kissed back again, this time more comfortable with it as he sauntered into the large room that housed the master bed covered in black sheets and blankets, pillows of equal color with accents of white and purple were piled against the headboard. 

He continued to handle Keith with utmost care, no falters as he slowly made it to the edge of the bed and gently placed the smaller man down. Keith complied, relaxing the hold he had on the veteran as he drew back, subtly breathless from the second kiss. He gave a crooked smile to Shiro before fully letting himself fall back onto the linens of the bed, sinking into the dark-colored comforter with a breath out of relaxation. 

“Comfy?” Shiro chuckled at the display before him. The beautiful artist had his knees bent over the edge of the bed, arms spread out like wings. His head was tilted just so, allowing the ebony tresses of his slightly long hair to spread out and blend into the black of the blanket. His eyes were cracked open, that deep indigo again being brightened by the lunar mass hanging in the sky, out past the windows that were scattered within the room. 

“With you? Always.” Keith answered without hesitation himself, eyes falling closed a moment until he felt a dip on the bed and the feeling of a pair of eyes suddenly above his own. When he opened them he found Shiro leaning over him, knees and palms pressed flush to the mattress and hovering over Keith like some predator over it’s prey. But Keith felt no frets, then again the idea of being devoured by someone like Takashi Shirogane never once bothered him either. 

“You’re beautiful…” Shiro’s eyes stayed locked on target, grey clashing with a deep purple hue and mingling. 

Keith’s lips curved upwards as he admired his current view. “I think you win the prize for that.” He uttered, lifting a hand from the mattress and bringing it up to play with the shock of white hair that was to Shiro’s front, before tracing his fingers down the side of the veteran’s face. “Picture perfect.” 

Shiro let out a soft chuckle to the artist's terminology before tilting his own head and kissing at the other's palm. He refused to stop as soon as he started, trailing his lips down to Keith's wrist before slowly pushing the sleeve of the other's faded leather jacket down, lips trailing against the faint vein line beneath skin there. He felt Keith shiver but there was no denying it was one of unspoken satisfaction, a breath out soon following the subtle tremor. Shiro picked his lips up from the other for a moment as Keith shifted beneath him. The black haired beauty sitting himself up a moment to skillfully slip off his jacket it and shove it elsewhere, surely off the bed and to the floor but neither of them caught the subtle thump against the floorboards. Instead, Keith was wrapping his arms around Shiro's neck, pulling the jock back now to claim his lips into a kiss of passion this time. 

They parted their lips, tongues invading and tangling jovially before Shiro was moving again, pecking at Keith’s jawline and then heading down to his neck. A soft noise escaped from the artist’s throat as his hands came up to rest against Shiro’s shoulders. 

The veteran’s own hands were roaming now, pushing the black fabric of Keith’s shirt up to expose skin. He duly noted the dip in his partner’s stomach as he brushed his fingertips along the recluses’ body. He recalled on previous occasions with how receptive Keith had always been to any sort of intimate touch, his whole body on high sensory alert and Shiro lived for it. 

Keith was moving though and Shiro suddenly felt unsure as he watched the artist sit up, pressing his palm to Shiro’s chest and having him sit back for just a moment. But when Keith simply stripped off his shirt and threw it in a ball elsewhere with a look of annoyance Shiro felt the need to chuckle at that before being pulled back into yet another kiss. The veteran was still straddling the artist, his hands instantly going for the bare skin that was revealed to him in full. 

The recluse worked on stripping Shiro of his clothes, peeling them off of him, unfortunately forcing their lips apart before coming back together again once the top halves of their bodies were both official bare to one another. Keith took a moment to fully pull back and look at the soldier. Suddenly he didn't look drunk, save for the red tinge still on his face under the light of the moon. But his eyes said otherwise, they looked sober as they fell along the scars of war the marred the veteran's body. 

Suddenly the air felt a little different, a bit heavier. Shiro watched the other, the insecurities that had been forced into the back of his mind by his alcoholic endeavors were now trying to poke out, seeking a way to crawl to the front again. He trembled when Keith’s fingertips met skin, trailing along a particular scar across his chest, jagged and harsh to view. As he watched the artist he swore he could see tears building up. 

"... I'm sorry… I wish I could've been there Shiro…" And then the artist leaned forward to kiss at the healing wounds, trailing his lips over them, igniting that flame within the veteran despite the intimacy of the moment. But he needed it, he needed this, he craved more of it, he closed his eyes, craning his head back slightly as he practically relished in the tender care that Keith took to kiss at each and every wound to the front whilst nimble fingertips trailed up his back, touching at the scars there too with all the gentleness the artist had in him.

He missed it too, what they had built together, their loving relationship. But it had crashed and burned and tomorrow he might not even remember what he had done-- 

“Ah--” Shiro breathed out softly, bowing his head again and moving to wrap strong arms around Keith for a moment, holding the other close and letting himself linger. He wasn’t ready to give this up again. 

The veteran guided Keith back onto the bed, cradling the artist’s head before it then met the mattress again. He could feel Keith’s hands against his thighs which were regrettably still clothed. But that was set to end in a few seconds as Shiro moved to stand and quickly undo the buckle and zipper, sliding it off and leaving himself simply in a pair of black boxers before the one and only person his heart was yearning for. He watched as Keith gave a smirk, that playful side coming out again. 

"Hey, beautiful…" The artist tilted his head as he allowed Shiro to undo his own buckle next. 

“That’s my line, baby…” The jock shimmied the tight jeans off the artist, Keith shuddering just slightly when he felt Shiro’s fingers drift across the skin of his thighs. By the time he was done Keith felt so exposed despite still wearing his dark red boxer briefs. But who wouldn’t when such apparel was clinging to a half hard member? 

Shiro was just as guilty though, he could feel himself growing further erect just by staring down at Keith who grew further flustered before his eyes. Keith was captivating as he laid there like the perfect gift. But he was always so much more than that. 

“Takashi…?” It was a breaking point for Shiro to hear his name called out in the quiet like it was. He came down over the other again, cupping Keith’s face for a moment as he stole his breath in yet another lip lock, he just couldn’t get enough, he didn’t want to break away. His hands drifted downward, smoothing against Keith’s skin, feeling it shudder slightly under his touch until he reached the hem of the other’s briefs and then disappeared. He briefly recalled their first night together, how young and clueless they were when it came to something like sex, but they figured it out just as they always had, it was somehow innocent despite the actions, and it was pleasurable despite the lack of knowledge. He wanted more of that. 

A small mewl came from Keith as he felt Shiro's fingers wrap around his erection, pre-cum dripping at the tip as he gave a subtle jolt with excitement. The veteran's bionic hand was resting against the right side of Keith's chest, a silicone coated thumb just lightly swiping over a nipple, causing a small gasp to escape the recluse again. 

Keith became almost bashful in that moment, hands scrambling to either grip at the bed or come up to cover his mouth to stop himself. 

It was a cute and rare sight to see, an embarrassed Keith, and he was all Shiro’s to have. 

Shiro took this as a hint to keep on going, he began to stroke, long and steady, adding slight pressure now and again until he had Keith crying out and arching his back, hands falling to the plush black duvet beneath him. Another beautiful sight to indulge in was gifted to the veteran. 

“Keith…” Shiro called the artist’s name and was greeted with lustful indigo hues settling on him. Then Keith was moving again, sitting up like he had before, his arms moving to guide Shiro to where and how he wanted him. Black boxers were now banned to the floor and the jock was left fully exposed to the artist who now had his body nestled between Shiro’s open legs, erection on display as Keith smoothed his hands up and down the jock’s calves. 

Shiro watched as Keith lowered his head and nearly groaned in content when he felt that soft pink tongue touch at his tip, member twitching and beckoning for Keith to come closer. 

The recluse obliged without hesitation, lips wrapping around the organ and taking Shiro into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks but allowing saliva to begin coating the veteran's member for what was sure to come. 

Shiro allowed his robotic appendage to fall against Keith’s head, stroking dark hair in a manner of praise that only fueled Keith. The artist was urged to suck a bit harder, closing his eyes in deep concentration as he bobbed his head up and down. Shiro couldn’t look away, his mind just kept falling back to old days when this was a thing, a deep moment of intimacy between them that they cherished like they did almost everything else.

“Keith…” He called again, watching as the artist answered by lifting his head, panting slightly from keeping his mouth full for a few moments. He shifted forward, leaning up to nuzzle noses with the broken soldier. Sweet and tender one moment, hot and fierce the next. That’s why he loved Keith so much, the other had always been such a mystery and Shiro lived for always trying to figure him out. 

A light chuckle left Keith’s lips as he pressed a chaste kiss to his lover’s lips. “I really want you…” 

“I want you too…” Shiro returned the response instantly, curling his arms around Keith’s waist and pulling the artist closer, allowing their chests to be pressed together. He brought his human hand up, licking at a few digits himself before lowering them down to Keith’s backside. 

The look within the recluses’ gaze was almost primal, cheeks still flushed drunk and turned on in the moonlight. Shiro locked on to such a stare as he inched a finger inside, pressing past the first ring of muscles. 

How long had it been? Years…

A moan fell past Keith's lips, eyes falling closed as he grasped onto Shiro for dear life, his hips unconsciously pushing back, urging the single finger as deep as it could go. He remembered this, the prep beforehand, but it was always a laughable thought because, despite it all, it never compared to the real thing. 

"I've got you, baby…" Shiro whispered into the other's ear, cradling Keith against him as he curled his finger slightly before pulling it out, beginning a slow administration whilst allowing himself to drift in the sounds of Keith's soft wanton cries. 

The artist buried his face into the veteran’s shoulder when a second finger soon followed in after the first, stretching him with a scissoring motion that made him see stars every few moments. He could feel his member twitching against his and Shiro’s stomach whilst also feeling Shiro’s own twitch with excitement, needy for something he had neglected for so long. 

“Please Shiro… I can’t wait anymore…” Keith pushed himself back, bracing a hand against the headboard and right beside Shiro’s head. “I need you…” 

Shiro acknowledged his words, nodding and slipping his fingers out, watching as Keith trembled in his upright position. “I need you too…” He curled his hands under Keith’s thighs, lifting the other like he had done so many times back then. He enjoyed how soft the other’s skin was, how his eyes glazed over from the heat of the moment. He lifted Keith without fault before slowly settling him, the jock’s member pressing to the artist’s entrance. 

Their eyes locked, pausing for a moment to catch themselves. For a moment it seemed like they were the soberest they had been all night. Keith's pupils were blown wide and Shiro's hands trembled for a moment. But when they moved to kiss again they fell back into their twisted fever dream as Shiro guided Keith down onto him. 

He swallowed Keith’s moans into his mouth, feeling the recluse tremble with ecstasy in his grasp. He broke away from his lips after a moment to check on him once he was fully settled inside, noting how tight it was, nearly suffocating in the most pleasurable of ways. 

“Baby?” Shiro stroked at Keith’s face, pushing the other’s black bangs away to get a better look at him. Keith nuzzled into his palm, breathing out, trying not to let himself fall so easily into the pleasure just yet, but he admittedly missed the full feeling of having the other inside him. 

“I’m good…” He kissed at Shiro’s palm gently, nuzzling further before cracking his eyes open to look at him. “So good… don’t stop.” 

The veteran gave a hard nod, arms encircling his lover again and pulling him close, lips pressing to Keith’s throat and kissing as he began to gently help in lifting the other up before bringing him back down onto his erect organ. Keith cried, clinging and clawing lightly against Shiro’s chest, though being mindful of battle scars as he did. 

Keith bounced beautifully in Shiro’s lap, breath hitching with each movement, feeling the veteran go deeper and deeper with each thrust up as he came back down. He savored the view of Shiro in front of him and Shiro equally enjoyed it as well, eyes raking over the beautifully broken being in front of them. 

They both were broken, the world had chewed them up and spit them out on opposite ends from each other and yet here they were, the only way to be reunited was under the effects of the poison that continued to encroach on them. 

Their stamina was at its peak though, their positions changing. Shiro pulled out, and Keith moved onto his hands and knees on the bed, cheek pressing against the pillow as Shiro lined himself back up. It was like a walk through memory lane on every position they had ever taken together. Shiro allowed his robotic hand to smooth up Keith's back and then back down, relishing in its perfect arch as he slipped back in with ease. 

Shiro still managed to fit just perfectly. Keith noted it within his subconscious, Shiro’s form was engraved into him, inside and out and he was damned lucky. 

Gasps and pants filled the silence of the room, skin slapping together and the blanket moving some as Keith gripped at it for purchase. His lips were parted, eyes fluttering as he tried to glance over his shoulder back at the one he was sharing such personal moments with. 

Shiro was basked in the glow of the moon not far behind him in the window across the room. He gazed down at Keith with eyes full of passion and loving, one hand settled on Keith’s hip whilst the other continued to stroke soothingly up and down his back. 

“Keith… you feel so good…” He praised, pushing in a bit deeper for emphasis and hitting the perfect spot for his partner. 

Keith cried, clawing deeper at the blankets, gaze blurring for a moment as his prostate was touched upon. “You too… Fuck…” He pressed his face into the pillow. 

However, the veteran didn’t allow the position to stay that way for long, pulling out yet again and letting out a soft chuckle to Keith’s protest before gently flipping Keith over, back to bed now as he laid there, black hair a mess and sweat running down the side of his face as he gazed up at the soldier who admired him from above. 

“I want to see you…” Shiro sighed softly, smoothing a hand up Keith’s thigh and then back up his chest, gently cupping at the other’s throat before he slid back inside of the other, watching the artist’s eyes fall closed as he released the deepest moan of the night so far. 

He began to thrust again, skin slapping and mixing in with his grunts and Keith’s groans. The recluse looked back up to the veteran, gazing at him and moaning in time with each press in and each pull out. Louder cries came when Shiro angled himself and started to touch at the deepest of places with each thrust. 

Keith’s hand abandoned the bed sheets, moving to curl around his own member to give himself further attention, jerking himself in time with his partner’s movements. 

"You're beautiful, Keith," Shiro grunted, pressing his hands to the pillows beneath Keith's head as he kept up his thrusting. 

They couldn’t look away from each other, they registered the heat that started to pool in their stomachs, knowing they were close, their bodies pushing to the limit. 

“I love you, Takashi.” Keith gasped out and abandoned his member to pull Shiro’s head down, lips crushing together, desperate in the last few thrusts.

They hit climax, moaning into each other’s mouths, Shiro’s hips still gyrating even after release to calm himself. Keith could feel his own release across his stomach but didn’t mind it, it had been forever since he felt this sort of thing. 

They panted, chests rising and falling hard and heavy as Shiro carefully pulled out, glancing down and noting how he had filled the other without thought. But neither of them seemed bothered by it. He looked back to Keith’s face, filled with exhaustion but his eyes seemed to sparkle with happiness, something Shiro knew he hadn’t seen in years. 

He moved to lay beside the artist, said individual rolling onto his side to face the soldier. 

They allowed their limbs to entangle one another, arms and legs twisting and locking in a mission of never wanting to let go. 

They said nothing more, actions spoke for them as Shiro placed a gentle kiss to Keith’s head, the recluse returning the favor by pressing a kiss to the other’s chest, right over a scar. 

They drifted into a dead sleep, alcohol lingering and stealing their memories away as they dreamed, worming its way in and taking away all they had done in the last few hours. Tomorrow's dawn would only be destined to lay waste to them once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! If you want to chat you can also find me over on my [tumblr](http://solarscarlet.tumblr.com/). I'll hopefully have the next chapter out a bit more quicker. Thank you again for the continued support!


	9. Harrowing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter but I'm forwarding the story! Thank you to everyone who has shown support, as always it is greatly appreciated! I also apologize in the delay in posting chapters.

His body was heavy, sluggish even as he slowly dragged himself out of the dark depths of a voided slumber. 

Awakening wasn't so painful though as he came to being in the morning light, whatever he was lying on felt soft, and whatever was cradling his body felt warm, comforting even. 

But his head was drumming, the piercing light of the sun forcing him to wince and let out a hiss as he squeezed his eyes shut again. 

There was a movement from the thing holding him from behind. 

Reality came crashing down in a heartbeat as his indigo hues snapped open and he turned his head to find himself faced with his godforsaken beautiful nightmare. 

Keith stared at Shiro in horror, the veteran still sleeping without much care, arms tightly wound around the recluses' waist. But this situation only raised more alarms as Keith began to drift his gaze down, finding nothing but his and Shiro's own skin flush against each other. He could feel a dull ache in his lower back. He had officially fucked up in so many ways. 

He was frozen in fear then, hungover mind not recognizing any memory of last night but he was coherent enough to put all the pieces together. He had fallen off track, his game plan was now officially flying out the window and to the atmosphere, breeching clouds and losing oxygen and breaking into zero-gravity. 

He was tense and for a moment Keith swore his own heart stopped as fear smothered him. 

_Escape._

He started to search his surroundings, but then the gentleness of his loving heart came creeping up as he let his eyes fall back to Shiro, forgetting the dull ache of his neck being turned to look back at the said man cuddled up against his backside. He couldn't ignore the comforting warmth of being spooned by him again. It was sickeningly sweet, killing him from the inside out. This poison was ten times worse than the alcohol that had wrecked him the previous evening. 

He froze again when Shiro shifted, Keith's eyes bulging slightly as the veteran leaned in and nuzzled into the crook of the artist's neck. Keith was done for, he knew it, his body was slowly starting to surrender, some small voice in the back of his disaster-stricken mind starting to say that maybe he should quit the game, forfeit it all and finally fall back in love. 

It was pushed down though when he was brought to the vision of the hospital, in the midst of a bustling city so far away from this little old town. The nurse at the kiosk was a glitch, her words muffled. 

_Sorry--- Doesn't----Amnesia----You._

He forced his way out of the hold, not caring as he shoved Shiro's arms down and away from his own waist. He quickly rose from the bed, stumbling slightly and catching himself on the nearby nightstand. A bright neon orange appeared in the corner of his vision and when he took a second to stop he found himself face to face with a near dozen of prescription bottles. Pills of all sorts of shapes, sizes, and colors were strewn across the black wood surface beside the ticking round alarm clock. The bottles were covered in words foreign and unfamiliar to him. He couldn't pronounce the medications themselves but he could make out the instructions on how and when to take them. 

In his brief moment of eyeing them all did he quickly calculate a schedule, these pills taking up a damn good part of the day to be taken. His eyes fell back to the ex-soldier still in bed, looking almost at peace despite how harshly Keith had removed himself from him. He felt his heart tightening again, Shiro looked so different now but his expression when asleep was still the same, calm, blissful, he missed waking up to such a face, to such a precious person. 

Keith shook his head, that was all in the past, said and gone, obliterated when the bomb detonated in war-torn lands. He briefly allowed his gaze to come back to Shiro once more, eyes fixating on the glistening metal of a futuristic prosthetic arm that made up his right side now. Battle had taken more than just memories from his past lover, it had taken limbs, it had taken the soldiers typical positivity he used to have, now appearing to be supplied by prescription drugs. He wrinkled his nose at the thought. This really wasn't his Takashi Shirogane anymore.  
The recluse wasn't sure how long he stood there naked in the sunlight, his mind fading in and out of old memories and the present, his gaze equally glazing over before coming back to focus on the broken human in front of him. It was when Shiro shifted again in his sleep did Keith snap fully out of his damaging thoughts, body going back into escape mode as he quickly searched the room for his discarded clothes from last night. He found his shirt first, slipping it on over his head and then his jacket before rummaging around for his underwear and pants. As he conducted said search did he make the mistake of bumping into the table of pill bottles, causing some to fall over and even roll off the nightstand, crashing to the floor. 

He cursed, grasping his undergarments and pants and slipping them on in one fell swoop just as his beautiful nightmare came to life. 

Shiro's eyes opened, startled by the noise as he sat up and looked to the nightstand, blinking several times to try and get his mind fully functional until he found the sight of movement in his peripheral vision. 

Keith met the veteran's gaze, his own purple hues wide like a wild creature caught in a scope. He bolted like a hare. 

Some remnants of last night made itself known in Shiro as he started to move without much thought to limbs. He clambered out of bed in his own nude state, grabbing his boxers and shirt from the floor as he moved to pursue. He could hear Keith's hurried footsteps heading down the stairs, his gasps of anxiety filled breath. 

"K-Keith!" He called after him, knowing the mistakes they made last night but knowing deep down a part of him would never give that night up for anything. He stumbled out of his bedroom, catching sight of the artist flinging the front door open as he started to descend the stairs himself. 

Keith launched himself into the morning sun, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he booked it down the sidewalk. 

"Keith! Keith, please wait!" Shiro called as he stepped onto his front porch, catching sight of his target rushing down the way. He looked down as he heard a loud cry, finding his feline companion, Kuron at his feet. "Kuron… I… I'll be back!" He announced, pushing the said cat back into the home with his foot before he too followed Keith's path down the sidewalk. He allowed his bare feet to carry him forward, not minding when a particular stone dug into the arch of his foot. The pain was nothing to him at this moment, he needed to know, he wanted to know or else it would all surely kill him at some point soon. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, calling loudly for Keith again without abandon, he didn't care about what neighbors he may wake up at this ungodly hour, they didn't matter, all that mattered was the mystery of Keith and the mystery of where he fit into Keith's life and where Keith fit into his own existence. Were they friends? Or something closer? Perhaps it was just a relationship that revolved around pleasure and nothing more, but Shiro still couldn't shake the aching in his heart. He wondered on the latter. 

He was brought into familiar territory, entering the extravagant street of Marmora Avenue. He could see Keith disappearing behind a particular house, knowing it was the dirt road that led to the odd little shack. Shiro picked up his pace. 

Keith broke through his front door as if finishing a marathon, nearly collapsing as he gasped, bracing a hand against the wall as he stood in his doorway, eyes closed briefly. 

"Keith!" 

His body seized up again as Shiro's voice pierced through him, a dagger to the heart surely to know that the ex-soldier had gone so far to follow him here again. 

"Keith...please I… I'm sorry...about whatever happened last--" 

There was a sudden crash, brown glass flying, the morning sun passing its light through it and igniting the fragments for a moment. Shiro jumped back at the bottle that was thrown smashed into pieces against the dirt soiled ground. He looked to Keith in shock, finding the recluse standing on his own little porch looking ragged. 

Keith breathed in and out heavy and hard, panting as he lowered his arm back down, his jacket falling off one shoulder as he stared at Shiro, his hair was still a ruffled mess from the bed they shared. He needed to break this, he needed to end this here while he still could. He had to let Shiro go now. "Go the fuck away!" 

"K-Keith I…" The veteran wasn't exactly sure about what he could say, looking from the artist to the broken glass that was now between them. He swallowed before moving to take a step forward. 

Another bottle was launched and Shiro momentarily felt like he was on the battlefield again. But he couldn't give up. "Keith..please… I just want to talk--" 

"I have nothing to talk to you about!" He raised his hand again, armed with yet another bottle. He could feel the moisture in his eyes as he grit his teeth, forcing his heart to obey his head. "Go away! Get off my property!" He barked out, trying to sound as brutal as possible as he gave out his orders, wishing, hoping the soldier would simply obey. 

He wasn't sure how much longer he could look at Takashi Shirogane without wanting to rush to him and embrace him. Every time he looked at him it got so much harder to hold back on crying out to him, begging him to simply remember what they were before fate dived in and rocked their world to the point of dislocation. 

Shiro went quiet as he gazed at Keith, taking him in, he felt his own heart clench again, it was obvious there was something going on between them, but the question that was raised was why was it not coming to mind right now? Last night was still a blur to the veteran, but he knew they had gone far for a couple of supposed strangers, a broken veteran and the town recluse had gone home together from a bar after that Shiro filled in the gaps with the idea of what intoxication could do. 

He gave into the commands given by the beautifully broken boy in front of him, he slowly retreated, taking a step or two back as he lowered his head, bowing it in apology. "I'm sorry…" He whispered. 

Keith caught it in the silence that had fallen around them, not even a single chirp from a bird or a rustling of tree leaves dared to disturb them in a shattering moment. 

"Just….Just go already." Keith murmured and dropped the last bottle, letting it roll off his porch and down the small set of rickety-looking stairs as he turned away, retreating back into his own home to mourn his loss further. 

Shiro obeyed this time, for now surrendering and waving his flag for a truce. He made his way home, staring down at his dirt covered feet. The walk felt like it took an eternity before he finally reached home base, opening the door and being met with the looming shadows of his chaotic mind as he dared to climb the stairs. He aimed to retreat to the scene of the crime committed, just wanting to go and curl back up in his bed for the remainder of the day, for the remainder of life. 

He only got so far though when he stopped as a piece of string hit his face. He took a step back and blinked, trying to focus his muddled mind on what was in front of him. A rather thick looking rope hung down in front of the soldier and when he followed it up he found an indentation in the ceiling. The attic. 

Shiro furrowed his brows as he gazed up at the closed entrance to such an ancient place. He nearly jumped out of his skin when something fluffy brushed up against his leg, looking down to only find his faithful cat now staring up at him with his single eye. 

Kuron called loudly up to his human, the meow seeming to echo off the walls of the hallway. The veteran blinked down at that before pointing up to the door above their heads. It was a silent question he posed as he gazed into the eye of the stray. He was met with a mewl in answer. 

Shiro looked back up again, hesitation seeming to set in before he grasped the string. Perhaps fate had plans for him yet? And so he pulled the string, the ladder descending from the ceiling and dust falling with it, the morning sun catching it and giving off a far more magical feeling rather than anything eerie. 

The soldier stared up at the now open hole, feeling how the air suddenly changed around him. He hesitated for only a moment longer before he began to climb. He prayed for perhaps a means of finding answers to his current questions, and perhaps a sense of peace to be shared between him and his beautiful mystery. 

Keith could only hope for the opposite, that Shiro would let this all go and simply move on and continue to forget. 

But again… fate had plans for both of them yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who leave kudos and comments, I'll do my best to get the next chapter out a bit quicker. You can also find me over on my [tumblr](http://solarscarlet.tumblr.com/)!


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